Joker's Shadow
by lordlink13
Summary: A criminal who is nothing more than a shadow. But when she goes to Gotham City, hardly within six hours, she's caught by the Joker himself. He won't kill her, and she doesn't know why. If she finds out, would the Joker still keep her alive? JokerxOC
1. Within Gotham

**Lordlink13: So this is my second attempt at writing this story. The first version wasn't going anywhere, and I feel like I completely _destroyed_ the Joker that Heath Ledger portrayed in _The Dark Knight_. So, I'm trying again, and I've changed a great deal. As a reader, I would like you to give me reviews - if not for positive reasons - but to at least tell me if you think the Joker is suddenly going out of character. I'll see what I can do and all, but I might do that on purpose because that's how the story's gonna go. It might just be one little thing, so please, don't yell at me for trying my best. I hope you enjoy this version.**

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Gotham City…I don't really understand what possessed me into turning to that master-crime city. A woman of the age twenty-four shouldn't be spending her life in a city that was so filled with criminal masterminds. The Mob for one, and then the other criminals. The "Super" criminals. At least I bothered to research such things.

Who am I? The name Shadow should be enough for you, since it's enough for me. I used to be Sara Reynolds back in middle school, but then, a certain tragedy occurred, and that was the end of Sara Reynolds. Shadow is the only one that remains. It's not a personality disorder; it's merely a change of personality in order to survive.

As I remember, it was the eighteenth of June when things for me really picked up. I was lying on my bed in my cheap motel room, flat on my stomach, arms wrapped around my pillow like it was a teddy bear, listening to my iPod at softest volume. The alarm clock on my nightstand read 2:47 in the morning. I was simply too restless to sleep, and I had a massive headache that throbbed painfully.

I blamed the agitation on my move from a small town to a large city. The sounds weren't the problem. I could deal with the cacophony of cars, taxis, and delivery trucks, added with the police sirens in the distance. Even the gunshots and shouts of my drunken neighbors didn't bother me. I was used to this, having worked for several top gangsters in different cities for years, ever since I was twelve. That makes twelve years of crime-life…boy, I find that depressing.

I rolled unto my back, causing my bed to creak, to look up at the ceiling fan. I watched it for several minutes, not knowing what else to do. I've been lying awake since ten; I don't think I was going to get any sleep at all.

Finally, I sighed and turned off my iPod, wrapping the earbuds around it and setting it on my nightstand. I sat up and stretched before dangling my socked feet over the edge of the creaky bed. After slipping my feet into my sweet Skechers – I tend to _love_ the little things; I can usually be easily amused – I reached for my jacket and wallet before leaving the motel room.

Out in the small parking lot, I stopped by my ride – a beat-up Toyota – and decided against taking it. It was a stolen car, taken from my ex. He was so obsessed with his beloved Toyota; I don't know why I bothered to date him. Not like I had any luck with men in the first place.

I walked down the road from the rundown motel, deciding to create a mental map of the city. Since I came to Gotham, I might as well make an attempt to make myself at home. In case I was attacked, all I really had was a pocketknife. I knew I should have taken my handgun, a Glock G21, but I just didn't want to turn back and get it.

After about fifteen minutes, I found myself coming onto a rowdy street. Cars filled the parking spots on either side of the street, some parked crooked as if the drivers were in a hurry to get to the nearest nightclub. There were quite a few on this street; they must have a great deal of competition, but then, if a drunk was thrown out of one, he could just walk into the next one. Nightclubs…not my kind of thing, but I thought I'd go in anyway. It would give me something to do, play a few games of poker or something.

I headed for one called The Stacked Deck, and as I neared the door, I moved out of the way in time for a bartender to throw out one guy.

"Get lost!" the bartender yelled at the poor man, who wallowed in a puddle on the street. I didn't pay much attention to the man, but rather watched the bartender. He caught sight of me and said, "I'd advise you to go elsewhere, ma'am. It's probably too dangerous for a lady like you."

"Thanks for the concern, but I wasn't heading in there anyway," I told the bartender, giving him a nice smile. He nodded gruffly and then headed in.

"Hey, Ryan! Get out of the puddle! You'll never catch a woman like that!" I turned my attention to a trio of men hanging around a gray SUV. They were laughing at the man in the puddle – Ryan was his name – and I just continued to walk by, changing my mind about possibly entering the nightclub.

"Hey 'ere, Babe!" I slowed down and looked over my shoulder at the man Ryan on the ground. He was smirking, reaching out his wet hand toward me. "Wanna 'elp me up, gal?"

"Not particularly," I responded and then continued on my way.

"Hey, sugar!" one of the other guys called. "Why not coming for a ride with us?"

I stopped again and glared in their direction. With my headache throbbing, I wasn't in the best of moods.

"We could leave ol' Ryan here, wallowing in the puddle," another said.

"What 'bout the boss?" the third man asked, looking worried. I narrowed my eyes, suddenly interested. Did I catch onto a crime boss in Gotham already? Someone to offer my services to?

"Boss won't mind as long as it's a pretty girl," the first man said. "He just might want a piece of her too."

"But the boss would want her first," the third man protested.

"Such a worrier," the second guy murmured.

The first man only grinned and motioned with a hand toward me. "So, how 'bout it, gal? A ride in the car?"

I finally turned to face them and smirked at them. What morons. Did they think they were so tough for a single girl? I must look like just any other girl they've seen and played with. For a moment, to be honest, I was tempted to run, but I stood my ground. Sara would have run, but Shadow wasn't letting this guys go by unpunished.

I squared my shoulders and then headed across the street, making the trio snicker. My hand reached into my pocket with my knife, getting it ready by snapping it open while I swung my arm, to cover it up.

However, I was only halfway across the street when there was a loud bang. I stopped as the men jumped in surprise and fear. They turned to see a man with his hand on the hood of the SUV, leaning against the car. I blinked in surprise, my tired eyes automatically scanning the man up and down, taking in his features.

He wore a purple suit with a blue button-shirt, a green vest, and a funky-looking tie. From the distance I was, I could see his face was white and black where his eyes would be. His mouth was red, but the lipstick – or whatever he used for his mouth – reached upward and farther out than a normal grin.

My jaw almost dropped in surprise. My first night in Gotham City, and I had seen the most-wanted criminal mastermind. _The Joker?_ _Seriously?!_

He cleared his throat, looking at his men slightly under his brow, giving the three guys at the other end of the car a menacing look. Then, he raised his forehead and turned his head slightly to the side, playing with his mouth. "Well?" he demanded in a sinister voice. "Were you waiting for, ah, for me? Why isn't, ah, the car turned _on_?" He knocked on the hood with his gloved knuckles, as if to make sure that his men understood.

"Sorry, boss," the worried guy said as he moved forward to reach the driver's side.

The Joker moved faster. He went up and grabbed the guy by his throat before slamming him against the car. Something appeared in his gloved hand, and he placed it close to the man's lips.

I shivered at the thought of what he might do to the poor man. You'd think that the idea of running for my life now while I still had the chance would have crossed my mind, but I was too…stunned by how fluently the Joker had moved, almost _teleporting_ to his next place.

The Joker was speaking to his man, and he was talking loud enough for me to hear him halfway across the street. "Tell me…Greg…_why_ isn't the car on?"

The man, Greg trembled as he faced his menacing boss. "I…we…I mean…"

The Joker jerked the object in his hand – a knife – into the man's mouth, and Greg burst into tears. With the Joker's back to me, I couldn't see his expression so I couldn't tell what he was feeling.

"Please, boss…" Greg whimpered. "I…I'll explain…"

The Joker took the knife out, and then stroked the crying man's cheek. "Sh-sh-sh," the Joker hushed him. "Of course you'll explain."

Greg choked on his tears. He raised his hands as if he was going to grasp the Joker's jacket, but the Joker struck him, knocking him down to the ground.

"Ten seconds, Greg," the Joker growled, pulling a handgun out of his pocket.

Greg scrambled on the ground as he quickly said, "Yes! I'll explain, boss, just let me-."

"Nine!" the Joker yelled. "Eight! Seven!"

"We-we were distract-."

"Six, five, four, three, zero!" the Joker yelled, and then he pulled the trigger. I flinched as Greg collapsed dead to the ground. My eyes averted to the Joker to see his shoulders shaking, his head low.

Suddenly, the Joker burst with laughter. It was a macabre laugh, one that sent shivers down my spine, making my body tremble. As I watched, trance-fixed, the Joker pressed a hand to the car door as if supporting himself while he chuckled like some madman. But then, I can't say he laughed _like_ a madman, since he _was_ a madman.

Then, just as sudden as he had begun, the Joker straightened, his laughter ceasing, and his smile gone. He tapped the window with the gun and then pointed it at the next man. He waved his other hand to urge the man forward.

The chosen man gulped and then took a deep breath. When he had gathered his courage, the Joker looked bored; checking the handgun to see how much ammo was in it. It was an obvious warning to his henchman that he should hurry up with the explanation.

"Sorry, boss, but we were distracted," the man begun.

"I heard that, ah, from Greg," the Joker said, in a bored tone, waving the gun aggressively.

The man's courage failed for a few moments. The Joker looked at him from under his brow, counting down his fingers of his free hand. The man saw the fingers ticking off, and he quickly said, "Look! The woman's still there! She distracted us!"

The Joker straightened instantly, and then he was standing directly in front of the man, pressing his weapon against the man's forehead. He brought his lips close to his henchman's ears, and he whispered something as his eyes wandered over to look at me.

The moment the Joker's eyes fell on me, I became aware of my headache which seemed to have grown intensively painful. I raised my hand to rub where it hurt the most, but I didn't cover my eyes, suddenly curious as to what the Joker was going to do.

His lips had stopped moving; they were still slightly parted as if he was in the middle of saying a word. Then, his tongue came out and slid along his bottom lip as he shoved his henchman aside, walking toward me.

I didn't know how to react. The Joker sauntered over to me, walking a strange hunched over gait, with his chin held low slightly. With the knife in his hand, he pushed his long hair back, licking his lips as he did so, his hair flashing green in the dim light from the nightclubs around us. As he neared me, I was able to get a closer, more detailed scan of his features. The smudged white makeup proved that he was out, working as the terrorist criminal that he was; as if his henchmen hanging around weren't enough evidence. Coal black mascara surrounded his eyes. His mouth had two gruesome scars which explained the unusual, menacing Glasgow smile.

"Well, well, well," the Joker said with a grin, "Aren't we ah_-trac-_tive?"

I couldn't stop myself from saying it. I was feeling frustrated and angry because of the headache, and I didn't like how the madman was _looking_ at me. "I believe that out of the two of us, _I'm _the only one attractive. You, on the other hand, are definitely not!"

The Joker stopped as one of his men suddenly said, "Ouch." The Joker quickly turned and shot the other man down, leaving only one left – the one who had explained that I was distracting him and his dead fellows.

The Joker turned back to me and narrowed his eyes. "Attractive…with an _attitude_." He continued to walk toward me, but seemed to sense my anger so he kept his distance as he began to circle me, like I was his prey. "I _like_ that," he continued.

"Sorry, not up for anything you might be thinking of tonight," I told him, following him with my eyes. I didn't trust him. No one in their right mind would trust a man like the Joker.

The Joker grinned as he came to a halt in front of me. "Is that, ah, what you _thought_ I was thinking?" he asked me. He giggled softly as he twirled his knife carelessly in his hand. "Believe me, _Tiger_, I was thinking of something _better_."

His knife-hand came close, and that's when I reacted. I snapped a hand on his wrist and jerked it down, twisting it. The Joker reacted a split-second behind me. His free hand grabbed my head, and he forced my head down. I turned into him and elbowed him hard with my free arm.

The Joker didn't grunt in pain, instead he laughed like he enjoyed the pain. He grappled with me, trying to free his knife-hand and jerking my head down. I panted with the effort; the Joker was strong. I felt his foot smack mine, but I shifted my weight to keep it there. He wasn't going to knock me down that easy.

Somehow, the Joker slipped out of my grasp, and he came around, grabbing me from behind. He shoved me to the ground, but I fell into a somersault, rolling back to my feet easily. I turned to face him, to see him tilting his head to the side; his eyes curiously alight as he watched me.

"Not just any ordinary girl," he murmured. The Joker grinned as he approached me again.

"You're not going to try _that_ again, are you?" I asked him, taking a step back.

"No, I don't like to, ah, to _repeat_ my methods," the Joker told me. He licked his lips, and then, his head gave the slightest of nods.

Someone grabbed me from behind, covering my mouth with a hand before I could scream…like I was one to scream in the first place. It had to be the Joker's last standing henchman. With my arms still free, I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbows, causing him to release me. I spun on my heel and struck the man in the jaw, hitting him hard enough to knock him down to the ground.

That's when I ran for it. Laughter echoed down the street behind me, the kind of laugh that sends chills up and down your spine, but I continued to run, my heart pounding with sudden fear, my head throbbing.

I didn't stop running until I was out of breath, which didn't take too long since I was somewhat out of shape from slacking off. As I bent over, my hands on my knees, panting, I made a mental note to self: _Get back into shape._ If I couldn't outrun a pursuer, I wasn't going to survive for very long, particularly not in Gotham City, the most dangerous crime-city.


	2. Crossing Paths

It took me several moments to catch my breath, and only two seconds to realize that I was hopelessly lost. I sighed in exasperation; so much for getting to know the city well. If anything, I knew from my motel to The Stacked Deck.

I frowned as I applied pressure to my temples. The throbbing had gotten worse with the running. It was all because of the stupid Joker! I growled and started walking; paying no attention to which direction I took.

Because of my irritation toward the Joker, I speed-walked, but as my temper cooled with the summer air, I gradually slowed to a relatively comfortable pace. Slowing down brought on a wave of exhaustion, and I glanced at my watch. Three ten, all I wanted at that moment was to left to my bed back in the motel – never mind how rundown the place was.

I looked around, taking in my current surroundings. I didn't see any store signs, just tall buildings with many windows. I guessed that I was in an apartment district, which could help if I bothered to scale the fire escape of one of the buildings and played 'lookout' to find my motel.

I continued to walk, afraid that if I stopped, I'd fall asleep standing. Gotham wasn't a trustworthy city. It almost made me wonder _why_ I had decided to come here. If anything, I had a developed fear of a calm and comfortable life.

I'm not your average woman. There are not many women who willingly became part of a group of people who had used them in the past for their own gain. I was "trained" to be a criminal, a strong-minded woman with the ability to survive any situation. If I was to be faced with death, I wouldn't be afraid – especially since I sometimes _longed_ for it. I could easily laugh in the face of danger, but I never took the chance.

I wasn't a laughing person.

I wandered aimlessly, always looking over my shoulder, my eyes darting here and there. After meeting the Joker, despite my fatigue, I was high-strung, cautious, nervous…despite how I had handled the Joker, I couldn't help but fear that he might come after me.

I couldn't get the menacing image of him out of my head. The purple suit, the hunched lean frame, the white face, the black eyes, the scarred red lips…an involuntary shiver ran up my spine as I remembered his macabre laugh. I've been in Gotham for hardly five hours and I had crossed paths with the Joker. How long would it be until we crossed paths again?

I found myself walking across grass, and I looked around again. I was in a relatively small park with a sign giving its name. Hyde Park. I recognized the name from the map I had looked at while I was searching for a motel to sleep in for the night, five hours ago. The park wasn't far from the motel; I just had to search for the right street to follow from the park.

I went over to the swings and sat down, pushing my feet gently against the ground to start swinging myself. I sighed and pressed my forehead to the metal chain, closing my eyes. My headache hadn't gone away; in fact, it was only getting worse with my lack of sleep. The coolness of the metal chain helped ease it a bit, but not enough.

I must have sat there for quite awhile, struggling to avoid drifting off. My eyes refused to open, and I could feel my muscles slacking. I jerked myself awake, forcing my eyes open. They felt gritty from lack of sleep, and my body protested when I forced myself to stand up. I rubbed my eyes, a little too hard, and walked about the park, looking for a street name I recognized.

Once I thought I recognized one, I took it.

Again, with the wandering, I found myself lost again, unable to recognize any of the other streets. Maybe I should have studied the map better.

"You look lost." I halted, my heart leaping into my throat in fear. I turned and faced the speaker, a woman dressed in black clothing, sitting on the front steps of an apartment building. "You must be new in Gotham," she said, nicely.

"Just out for a walk," I replied, not knowing if I could trust her.

"Seems both too _early_ and too _late_ for a walk." She smiled. "The name's Raven. What's yours?"

"Shadow," I responded.

"A crim? Isn't that interesting? That only the criminals and drunks are out at this time of day." Raven shrugged. "Makes me wonder which criminal boss you'll be working for."

I frowned. "That's not necessarily your business."

"I know. That's why I didn't ask you. I was just wondering out loud." She flipped her hair back over her shoulder, casually. "I suppose I'll be seeing you again, though. Whether through working together or competition, I don't know, but either way, I'll enjoy it."

"Yeah, all right." I didn't want to be rude, but I really wanted to get back to my place. However, I didn't see her as trustworthy to let her know where I was staying for the night – or day, depends what you prefer.

"I should leave you to your 'walk' then," Raven said, standing up. "I'm meeting someone somewhere so I'll see you around, Shadow." She waved and hopped down the steps, heading down the way I had come.

"See ya," I muttered and went about walking the way I was facing. I had only gone a few paces before coming to a stop. She was the only person I had seen for awhile, despite the drunks. She could be the only logical person to ask where my motel was. What did it matter that I was telling her where I was staying, I wasn't going to be there for long afterwards.

I turned around and followed her.

Stalking was part of my survival skills. Working under Mob bosses, you are usually assigned on an assassin job, where you have to follow someone, get close to them, and then kill them. As the stalker – the assigned assassin – I could follow anyone anywhere, through a crowded place, through their hiding places. It was like I had a natural ability for locating someone while others would lose their prey; I never let go until I've gotten the job done.

Following Raven through the empty streets of Gotham City was no difficult task, even though I was tired. Stalking someone always gave me a small adrenaline rush because it was exciting and heart-pounding. Keeping to the shadows and ducking behind things and into alleyways was the best part, sneaking up on someone without their knowing.

Though I'm pretty sure that Raven was aware _someone_ was following her. She was being rather discrete about it, throwing casual glances around her like she was looking at the view. One time, I was sure that she had at least seen a glance of me as I ducked into an alleyway, and I could picture her grinning as she turned away.

Raven passed another alleyway, and as I approached it, five guys hurried out, racing after her without a glance in my direction. She heard them and started running, and as I was following her – and the gang – I had to force myself to race after them all.

A few blocks away, I turned the corner to see Raven dart into an alley on the other side of the street, with the five guys hollering after her as they followed.

I hurried over, feeling the tension of trouble in the air. I crept into the alley, remaining in the shadows, and I grabbed a plank of wood that resisted on the ground at the entrance.

"Hey, babe, we were calling ya," one man said. They had Raven up against the wall at the end of the alleyway, but she seemed unafraid by being outnumbered. All the guys' attention was on her so they didn't even notice my stealthy approach from behind.

I hit the first guy with the plank of wood, hard enough to drop him senseless. Two of the guys turned at the sound of their buddy hitting the ground, and one of them received a hit in the face.

Raven attacked one of the remaining three guys, kicking him in the shin. I swung at the third guy, but he caught the plank in his hand, a grin on his face. I brought my knee up between his legs, hitting him hard. He gasped with pain, releasing his hold on the wood. I kicked him in the chest, knocking him down backwards.

I was being rushed by the second guys I had knocked down and the remaining guy. However, I didn't have to worry too much about the latter as Raven grabbed his attention by jumping onto his back.

The guy rushing me came at me with a wicked-looking dagger – it was more of the hilt that looked scary, with the sharpness of the blade. I caught hold of his dagger-wrist, and his free hand came up, catching me by the throat. I grasped at his vice-like grip that constricted my windpipe. I tried to keep the dagger away from me as I kicked him hard in the shin.

The guy growled in pain and tightened his grip around my throat. Then, I kicked him again, this time in the groin. He dropped me and the dagger easily. As he turned to get his footing, I kicked him in the face, breaking his nose.

I stood there for a few moments, breathing heavily as I brushed my hair out of my face. I looked over at Raven, to see her in a similar state – animated with a rush of adrenaline. "You all right?" I asked.

"Never better," she replied, letting out a soft chuckle. "It's a good thing you followed me then."

I shrugged. "I guess I _was_ lost."

She grinned. "Where're you staying at?"

"Rundown motel on Fleet Street."

"We aren't far from it. Seven streets down this way." She pointed. "Two streets down from Grand Avenue – the main theatre district – and three streets down from there, to your right. I'm sure you can figure it out from there."

I nodded; my motel was the only thing on Fleet Street. "Thanks," I said.

She winked. "Payback for helping me."

I grinned and waved as I walked away.

The creaky bed couldn't have looked any more welcoming. As soon as I had locked and bolted my door, I grabbed a glass of water before I went and collapsed onto the bed without bothering to undress – leaving the glass on my nightstand next to my handgun. I was finally about to catch a little shut-eye before I heard a knock on the door.

I groaned and checked the clock. I had slept for about an hour. That was _it?_ "Come back some other time!" I mumbled, sleepily, too tired to register that my mumble probably couldn't be heard by the person on the other side of the door.

The knocker knocked again.

"Later!" I yelled, a bit more awake, before I settled back down to go back to sleep.

Whoever it was played a song, drumming it on the door. _Dum. Da-da-DA-da. Dum. Dum._

"Go away!" I growled, irritably, lifting my head to glare at the motel door. I waited, listening, waiting…there was nothing. I huffed and then laid my head down, snuggling into the covers.

_Knock. Knock. Kn-Knock._

_That_ did it! I punched my pillow as I jerked myself up, hopping off the bed. I was fuming as I approached the door, unbolting it and ripping it up.

I was so ready to yell at the person on the other side, expecting it to be an annoying neighbor or even the motel owner, but the sight of the Joker standing outside my door with his weight leaning against his hand on the doorframe surprised me, bringing back my fear that disabled me from speaking.

"Did I, ah, _bother_ you, _dar_-ling?" the Joker asked, giving me his Glasgow smile. I moved to slam the door in his face, but he stuck out his foot to keep me from closing it. "Slamming the door in someone's face isn't, ah, very polite," the Joker said as he shouldered his way in, nearly knocking me down with his force against the door.

"Neither is it polite to wake someone and then barge into their room," I managed to say as I backed away from him. The Joker giggled as he stalked toward me, much like before. My legs bumped against the bed, and I thought of sidestepping to move toward my nightstand where my handgun lay.

"You think you're going to, ah, to reach the gun in time, _beautiful_?" The Joker laughed, and then lowered his head so that his eyes peered at me from under his brow in a menacing way. "I don't _think_ so." Then, he lunged at me, roughly shoving me backwards onto the bed.

Oh, boy, this was _not_ good!

The Joker jumped onto the bed, landing on top of me with me stuck between his legs. "Can't let you go around playing with weapons you shouldn't be, ah, be _playing_ with," he giggled, loudly.

I didn't like having him on me, so I tried my best at trying to get him off. I say "try" because I _mean_ "try". I hit him in the chest and sometimes in the face several times before he grabbed my wrists. He just laughed at my attempts to hurt him, obviously enjoying it. The Joker made it known that he was stronger by jamming one of my hands under his knee, pressing his weight down into the bed and squishing my poor hand.

With his other hand, he held mine down to the side of my head. Now with his freed hand, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a knife, pressing the cold metal blade to the corner of my mouth.

"Like I said _earlier_," the Joker said, wetting his lips with his tongue, "You're not an ordinary gal."

"I believe the word you used was 'girl', not 'gal'," I said, my eyes widening slightly in disbelief. I was terrified of this man, and now I was talking back to him. Boy, did I have a _death wish?!_

Instead, he merely looked up for a moment, a look of deep concentration appearing on his painted face. Then, the Joker nodded and said, "Thank you for, ah, for _correcting_ me."

I couldn't help but let out a low growl.

"Whoa, Tiger, don't go growling at me," the Joker chuckled. "We hardly had the chance to, ah, to get to know each other." He moved the knife from my mouth, instead placing it against my throat.

"Anyone who gets to know you would be dead in about five minutes," I murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Maybe so, Tiger." I glared at him, my anger blocking out my fear. I didn't like the animal nickname. "But I _think_ I can make an exception for you, _beautiful_," the Joker said, ending with a giggle.

"Why bother with me?" The Joker suddenly cut off his laughter and gave me a sideways look, sucking on the inside of his cheek curiously as he cocked his head. I just stared at him, waiting to see if he would ask me about the question I had asked him.

Irritation flashed across his dark eyes, and his brow frowned. "You're not going to, ah, to _finish_?" he asked.

"I _was_ finished. You just weren't answering."

The cold blade found its way back to my lips. "You realize that you're walking on a very _slippery_ edge, don't you?" the Joker asked me, his voice lowering menacingly.

I let a mocking smile appear on my mouth. "I've been walking that 'slippery edge' since I was young and so far, I haven't slipped yet." The Joker's eyes narrowed, but not in anger, more like out of curiosity. At least I had his attention as I freed my hand from underneath his knee. "Believe me; I'm just _waiting_ for someone to push me off the edge. I don't have anything left of value in my life. I've passed my golden years already so maybe, if you truly _are_ the Joker, then you'd be a gentleman as to put me out of my misery."

As I had been saying this, my hand came free from its prison under the Joker's knee, and it was now reaching for the weapon I wanted on my nightstand. And it wasn't my gun.

I grabbed my glass of water and slammed it as hard as I could on the Joker's head. In a cascade of broken glass and freed water, the Joker yelped in pain – or surprise, I couldn't make sure. Using his surprise – or pain – to my advantage, I shoved him off me and grabbed my handgun. Retrieving it, I rolled off the bed, landing heavily onto the ground.

I pushed myself to my feet and made for the door. I ran for it, reaching into my pocket for my car keys. I raced out into the parking lot and stopped by my Toyota. My fear returned as I fumbled with the keys to unlock the car, and I stepped in, breathing heavily as I tried to start the Toyota.

It wouldn't start. I tried again and again, but it just wouldn't start. I panicked as I pulled out the cover under the steering wheel, reaching for the wires. My hands were shaking so hard that I thought I'd accidentally shock myself. I did touch something though that caused me to jerk back with the sting. I looked at my fingertip to see a drop of blood; I must have pricked myself on a wire.

The taps on my window made me jerk my head up, hitting the steering wheel. I instantly locked the doors as I rubbed my head, cursing quietly.

I made the mistake of glancing at who was at my window.

The looming face of the Joker caused me to shriek in a panic. I was tired, it was dark, and the Joker's face was scary with all the makeup and the gruesome scars.

The Joker laughed outside the car as he tapped again on the window. "How 'bout-ah unlocking the door, Tiger?" he asked, politely.

"No," I said.

A look of exasperation crossed his face. "I asked _nicely_," he said.

"The answer's still 'no'."

The Joker shook his head as he turned and walked away. I watched him for a few moments and then turned my attention back to the wiring of my car. After several failed attempts, I realized that I had to get to the front of the car and check under the hood. I looked around, searching for any sign of the Joker. Just the thought of what I was about to do made me want to cry with panic.

My nerves were screaming at me as I stepped outta my car, my hand grabbing my gun, and went around to the hood, lifting it up. It was only one little thing that wasn't in the correct place. I guess the Joker had done something to my car in case this happened. So this was all planned…how did he know where I stayed?

I slammed the hood shut and raced around the car to my seat…only to run right into the Joker.

The Joker grabbed me, his hand closing around mine that held my gun. I pulled the trigger out of surprise and panic, leaving a dent in the cement at our feet.

The Joker twisted my arm in order to get my gun, and I hollered in pain as I dropped the weapon. Then, he grabbed my head and slammed it down on the hood of my car. He dropped me, and I fell onto my back on the ground, my headache spiking with pain.

The Joker giggled as he picked me up easily and threw me against the car, the impact jarring my back. He stood in front of me, his body pressing mine against the car with his hands holding mine on either side of my aching head.

The Joker giggled as he blew in my face, and I jerked from it before glaring at him as he laughed at my reaction. "C'mon, girl, you can't be afraid of a little wind," he teased me, laughing.

"You shouldn't be wasting your time with me," I snapped at him.

"Oh? Why's that?" he asked, curiously.

"You could be out getting some girl who wouldn't mind sleeping with the Joker."

The Joker erupted into laughter, his lean frame shaking all over with it. He kept his eyes on me as he said through giggles and sharp intakes of breath, "Is _that_ what you think I'm goin' after? Is that what you _want_ me to be goin' after? Geez, girl!" Then, he pushed himself off the car, stepping back as he was overcome with laughter.

I blinked tears out of my eyes as my headache throbbed painfully. I watched him through blurry eyes as he doubled over; he was laughing so hard. I couldn't think with the pain erupting my thoughts.

"You…you make me laugh," the Joker gasped as he straightened up, having himself more under control, but his giggles still continued. "C'mon, maybe if you come with me, you'll learn exactly _why_ I'm taking you. When we get to, ah, to my place, you'll thank me for saving you."

"Saving me from what? Being a shadow for the rest of my life?"

The Joker paused for a moment, staring at me intensely. Did I say something wrong? Did I anger him? Was he going to push me off the edge where I would fall to my death, a death I had longed for since I was younger?

The Joker took hold of my wrist, gripping it securely to make sure that I didn't escape. He continued to stare at me, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he turned his head slightly, looking at me through the corner of his eyes. And I noticed that he widened his eyes, which, with the black mascara around his eyes, made him look like he was giving me puppy-eyes.

"A shadow?" he said in a low voice. His puppy-eyes looked at me with wonder.

I knew I should not have said it, but I did. "You didn't think I'd be trouble, did you?"

"Trouble…" he repeated. The Joker leaned in, bringing his face close to mine, his eyes alight with delight. "I _enjoy_…trouble."

I shoved him away and then cried out in surprise as my muscles suddenly cramped up painfully. A numbing sensation burst through me, and my knees buckled from underneath me. Even as the Joker caught me before I hit the ground, it was hard to tell if he was touching me at all, everything was going numb.

I thought of the prick back when I was playing with the wiring of my car. He must've drugged me somehow. The Joker had this all preplanned…

"Where…are you taking me?" I mumbled as my lips went numb.

The Joker swept me up in his arms and as my eyes started to close, I heard him say, "I'm taking you for, ah, for a ride, _beautiful_."

* * *

**Lordlink13: And here is chapter two, for my dear readers. It took me several times to write this chapter to get it _just right_. But I'm proud of it, and I hoped you guys liked it. Leave a review before you go!**


	3. Try Again, Tiger

I didn't lose consciousness, though in a way, I'd rather be unaware of the Joker simply carrying me away from my Toyota and toward the SUV, which was hidden well down the street. The sensation of moving your body but not being about to feel it move was frightening. I didn't try to move my head, afraid I wouldn't be able to move it again, so I got stuck with watching the Joker's painted face. I couldn't take my eyes away from the scarred lips though as they were obviously showing his pleasure in carrying me, though I didn't understand why.

However, those lips managed to form a demented-looking frown as the Joker's dark eyes narrowed. He came to a stop and started tapping his foot, though I could only tell by the sound of the tapping rather than the movement his entire body made.

"Why isn't the car on?" he demanded. I turned my head to see four guys waiting around the SUV. I recognized the first guy who had pointed me out to the Joker and the guy named Ryan – the one who looked like he was suffering from a hangover, despite it had only been an hour since I last saw him wallowing in a puddle. The other two goons, I wondered where the Joker had gotten them.

"Don, you've already done this once before, _har_-dly an hour ago," the Joker growled. "Were you distracted by yet another girl?"

"No, boss, I…we thought," the first guy began. The Joker dropped my lower half, pressing me into him as I fell so that he could support me. I couldn't even feel the jarring that went through my body from my feet hitting the ground. The Joker reached into his pocket, pulling out a handgun – _my_ gun – and blew the goon in the chest.

I watched the dead guy drop to the ground with a thud. The Joker wrapped his arm around my shoulders, holding me tightly as if to keep me from running away, even though I was too numb to be able to figure out _how_ to run away from him. He glared hard at a large, bulky man.

"Wanna try explaining, _John_?" the Joker asked, waving my gun around threateningly.

The man shook his head and walked around the car to the driver's seat.

The Joker cleared his throat as the SUV started up. "Shall we?" he asked me.

"I suppose," I mumbled, narrowing my eyes as a headache emerged.

"You _suppose_?" the Joker repeated. Even though he was looking at me, he was gesturing to the other two guys with my handgun. When one of them didn't move fast enough for his liking, the Joker shot him in the leg. The guy gasped and collapsed to the ground, grasping his bleeding leg.

"C'mon, girl," the Joker growled, roughly grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him, "Try to be a little more…_enthusiastic_."

Well, if he wanted eagerness – and he said that he always got what he wanted – then I might as well give him my _enthusiastic_ self.

I stomped down on his foot – which sent painful pins and needles through my foot – and pushed his chest to try to break from his one-arm hold on me. He slipped a bit, and I was able to rip out. However, the Joker caught my wrist again which I would have to assume was a bruising hold because of the whiteness on my arm around where he was holding me.

"Nuh-uh," the Joker said, smiling at my attempt as he pulled me back into his hold. "You running away from me again. Not. Gonna. Happen." I struggled, but he used both of his arms this time, trapping me in a strong embrace. Despite being numb, I _did_ feel another prick, and I looked down to see him injecting something into my arm. I winced as the sensation of pins and needles ran through my entire body, all at once, which was painful. The Joker jerked his head toward the cardoor, and one of his guys opened it.

When I realized that the Joker was pushing me toward the SUV, I got desperate and was able to ignore the pins and needles sensation. I put my mouth to the Joker's arm and bit down as hard as I could, biting so hard that I went through the leather jacket to his skin. The Joker actually gasped in pain – and I was sure it was pain this time – but he still shoved me into the car, falling into the backseat with me. I wouldn't let go, just biting harder, and the Joker got angry. He growled angrily as he pushed my head, tearing his arm out of my mouth.

Before he could scramble out of the car, I grabbed hold of the Joker's head and yanked him forward. I slammed his head against the car window as hard as I could, and then, as he dropped to the floor of the car, I tried to climb out.

The wounded guy grabbed hold of my ankle, and I fell as I jumped out of the car. The other goon grabbed the back of my shirt and lifted me off the ground, holding me in a headlock with one arm around my head and the other wrapped around my waist, pinning my arms to my sides. My feet dangled in the air, and I twisted to try to get out of the hold.

However, the man holding me wasn't having it. He moved his arm down to grab my neck, changing the headlock into a necklock, where my flow of oxygen was constricted. I choked as the man tightened his hold around my neck, and I couldn't breathe.

"Don't choke her!" the Joker yelled, angrily. I struggled, even as the man holding me loosened his grip. I gasped hungrily for oxygen, so absorbed in regaining my breath that I hardly noticed the Joker ripping me out of his guy's hold.

I _did_ notice the slap the Joker gave me. I winced in pain as my cheek stung, bringing tears to my eyes, but I glared at the Joker. His face burned with fury, and I matched it, despite my blurry vision.

"Dave, get in the damn car!" the Joker growled, and the man hurried into the backseat. "Move over to the window!" the Joker yelled at him as he shoved me into the SUV. "Ryan, _in_!" the madman yelled at the hangover guy on the ground. Ryan whimpered as he tried to move into the car as fast as he could , but the Joker suddenly shot him in the leg, causing him to cry out in pain. Then, the Joker lost all interest and headed back toward the motel.

I settled behind Dave and Ryan, heaving a deep sigh of surrender. Here I was, stuck between two of the Joker's guys, already a hostage. I rubbed my still stinging cheek to ease the pain, but there was nothing I could do about my throbbing headache.

John, the driver, looked into the rearview mirror at me, but I looked away so that he didn't meet my eyes.

"You should be _careful_ around the boss," Ryan said, beside me.

"Why do _you_ care?" I demanded, irritably. Ryan winced and shifted away from me, giving me a bit more elbow-room.

The Joker returned, carrying my duffel bag, and he threw it into the trunk of the SUV. Then, he came around to the passenger's seat, opening the door. He turned to the motel and pulled out something from his pocket. I thought it would be a knife, but it looked to be a switch. My eyes widened; a _detonator_!

The Joker armed the detonator and glanced back at me, his eyes still furious, but a smile appeared on his face. Then, he pushed the button.

Right in front of him – and the Joker wasn't watching – the old motel exploded into flames and bits. I gasped, jerking back into Dave in surprise. My eyes widened, my mouth dropped. Fear shot through me, nearly causing tears to fill my eyes. I choked back the sudden lump that had risen in my throat, and I averted my eyes to the Joker.

He seemed to be analyzing my reaction to the explosion, and he obviously liked what he saw. The Joker started laughing, and his goons joined him – more out of fear of him rather than their own amusement. The Joker slipped into the passenger's seat and shut the door.

"Home, Martin!" the Joker said, clapping his hands together. John hesitated, glancing at his boss – since 'Martin' wasn't his name – but then decided not to push it. He pulled away from the curb.

"Oh, Dave, mind tying the pretty lady's hands?" the Joker asked, pulling a piece of rope out of the glove department and tossing it back.

"Sure, boss," Dave said, reaching for it, but I snatched it out of the air and hid it behind my back. "Um, boss…"

"Is it really that _hard_ to, ah, to tie up a woman?" the Joker demanded, angrily. "I thought you did it all the time!"

Dave's voice lowered in fear. "No, boss, it's just that…she took the rope."

The Joker twisted in his seat, and he stared hard at Dave and me. He noticed me adjusting my arms into a more comfortable hidden position, and his scarred grin reappeared. "Well, Dave, you obviously never played _base_-ball before."

I ducked my head, feeling a smile making its way onto my face. I really _must_ be tired if I thought the Joker teasing one of his guys was funny.

Abruptly, the Joker threw himself into the backseat. I squeaked in protest as the Joker stood bend over in front me, his hands reaching behind me, searching for the piece of rope. I headbutted his forehead hard, and he laughed as he fell back, grabbing the backs of the front seats.

"You're just a, ah, a _load_ of trouble, aren't ya?" the Joker asked, licking his lips.

"I warned you," I snapped.

"You did. I probably should've taken you, ah, seriously about that." The Joker leaned back, reaching into the glove department again. Then, he came back and wrapped his arms around me, swiftly tying my hands behind my back. I growled in irritation, and the Joker laughed as he leaned back, twisting the previous rope around his gloved hand. "Now, how's that, _dar_-ling?"

"I have a name," I growled.

"Really? How con-_ven_-ient? I do too!" the Joker exclaimed excitedly, poking a finger into his chest. He gestured to his guys wildly, nearly hitting the driver in the head. "Same with these guys. You're not the _only_ one with a name, girl."

"And I'm hardly _just_ a girl."

"What? Are you secretly a guy?" I glared at him, and the Joker giggled. "I'd _kid_-ding, sweetheart."

"I'm not your sweetheart either."

The Joker leaned forward, grabbing my chin roughly and forcing me to look him in the eyes. "If I call you 'sweetheart', then you surely _must_ be mine," he growled at me, his eyes flashing. I tried to free myself from his hold, but he jerked my head back. The touch of his cold metal blade against my throat persuaded me from moving my chin again. "How 'bout doing my boys a favor, sweetheart, and acting your age?"

Before I could reply, the SUV unexpectedly came to a skidding stop. The Joker was flung backward while the rest of us – who were facing forward – only leaned forward. Since none of us were wearing seatbelts, Dave and Ryan hit their heads on the back of the front seats, but I actually flew forward, landing on top of the Joker on the floor of the car.

The Joker grunted as the SUV came to a complete stop, and he yelled up at the driver. "What _exactly_ was _that_ for?" he demanded.

"Sorry, boss," John responded. "The light changed."

"That's when you speed up!" I found myself yelling, and then my eyes widened in surprise. I glanced at the Joker underneath me, and he was looking at me with surprise. "Oh, geez," I said, trying to use my abdomen muscles to pick myself off him, but I couldn't.

"Well…" the Joker said, his smile returning. "It's certainly hard to, ah, to pick yourself up when your hands are tied behind your back, isn't it-ah?" I just glared at him since there wasn't much else I could do on my own. "I don't know 'bout you, ah, but I _like _this."

"If you really like it, why don't you wait until we're alone," I spat at him, without thinking.

"What a _marvelous_ idea!" The Joker placed a hand on my stomach and pushed me off as he picked himself up with his other hand. He shoved me back between his two goons, and he perched himself on the arms of the front seats. His piercing gaze wandered over me, and I squirmed under his eyes. I watched his tongue as it slid out and over his scarred lips, wetting them.

"How 'bout not staring at me?" I said. "You stare too hard, and you'll burn a hole through me." I hadn't really meant for that to be funny, but the Joker chuckled anyway. Much to my relief, he finally climbed back into the passenger's seat.

I settled back, trying to place my hands into a more comfortable position, but with your hands tied behind your back, there's a limit to how comfortable you could get. Even as I was doing this, I realized how tired I was. After all, I had only gotten an hour of sleep within the past twenty hours, and having dealt with the Joker and his men, my adrenaline rush was running low.

I turned my head to look out the window, but Dave was too bulky to see around without shifting and attracting the Joker's attention. Ryan seemed too busy rocking himself back and forth with his hands on his head, mumbling to himself.

I just laid my head back, letting it hang over the backseat, and I closed my eyes. I doubted that I'd be able to sleep in this position, but getting my body to realize it was tired wouldn't be hard in a position like this. But the position was uncomfortable so I slouched and focused on relaxing the tension in my muscles.

I had only _just_ drifted off when the van unexpectedly swerved, jerking my head against Dave's shoulder. I felt a hand tightened around me, as if to support me, and I realized that Dave's shoulder was slacking in bulkiness.

"_Now _what's your excuse for bad driving, _John_?" the Joker's voice demanded, sounding right over my head, making me tense. "You woke up the tiger!"

"Guy cut me off," John explained as I pulled away from the Joker.

The Joker's arm pulled me back so that he and I were face-to-face. He grinned at me, and my eyes narrowed. "Comfortable, Tiger?" he asked me. When I didn't respond, he leaned his face closer so that our breath mingled. I couldn't help but notice he smelled nice, despite how grubby he looked. "I asked you a, ah, a question, Tiger, and I _expect_ an answer."

I still didn't respond, not knowing how to answer without giving him satisfaction in one way or another. Instead, I turned my head to see if the other goon – either Ryan or Dave – was next to me, but he wasn't. The Joker grabbed my chin and roughly turned it to face him, but my eyes flickered off to the front seat. Dave had joined John in the front seat, but I didn't see Ryan.

"I thought-ah that you'd be more, uh, comfortable when it was just you and me," the Joker explained, licking his lips.

"Very _thoughtful_ of you," I said, keeping my tone neutral. That's when I heard someone retching behind me.

"Ryan, keep it down!" the Joker yelled over my head. I shuddered, my face scrunching up in disgust at the noise Ryan was making. "Next time, I'll leave you behind rather than take you back!" With the Joker distracted, I looked at my situation, trying to find a way out, but with the Joker's arm around me and his hand still holding my chin roughly, that was going to prove difficult.

"I wonder," the Joker said, his attention returning to me. He released my chin and pulled out his switchblade. I couldn't help but wince at the _click_ of it popping open. "You're a fighter, Tiger, that much I can tell. And…ya know what that tells me about you?"

"What?" I asked, deciding to keep the conversation going while I tried to formulate an escape plan.

"That you've been through some, ah, _rough_ times."

I didn't know how to answer to that. It wasn't like he had asked me a question. I just busied myself with realizing that my hands were now on my lap, still tied but they weren't behind me anymore.

The SUV pulled up to the curb, coming to a halt.

"Where are we?" I asked, trying to look out the window.

The Joker opened the door and slipped out before turning back to me and holding out his hand for me to take. I glared at him. "C'mon, we don't have all day," the Joker said, impatiently motioning me toward him. When I still didn't move, he frowned at me, his expression becoming livid. "Don't. Make. Me. Come. In. There," he growled, empathizing every word.

I had reached my limit. Being so tired and so reluctant, I found myself becoming angry. Who did the Joker think he was? He wasn't the boss where _I _was concerned! I didn't like him ordering me around, and with my own exhaustion and anger mixing, I became a rebel with the silence promise to make things _difficult_.

The Joker growled and grabbed my arm, roughly yanking me out of the car. I struck him as he pulled me out, and in anger, he threw me at one of his guys. The unfortunate, wounded Ryan…

My trained reflexes awoke. I used my momentum to knock Ryan over, which wasn't hard since he was unstable on his feet already. Then, I rolled away from him and swung my leg around, knocking John over. I jumped to my feet and started running.

Behind me, I heard rapid footsteps behind me. I was slammed down onto the curb, my head smashed into the pavement.

The Joker grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me off the ground. He was growling as he punched me in the stomach, causing me to double over. The Joker grabbed my tied hands and yanked me back to his men, throwing me at Dave, the only one standing.

I tried to knock him over, but since he was the bulkiest of the Joker's guys, he was far steadier than John or the hung-over Ryan. Dave gripped me by the shoulders in a crushing grasp to avoid getting yelled at by the Joker for choking me again. My shoulders hurt nearly instantly; I worried that Dave might crush my shoulder bones.

I watched as the Joker kicked both of his men on the ground, jumping on Ryan several times, yelling at him for drinking too much and being unable to do his best work. He actually crouched down beside Ryan, pulling out his switchblade. The Joker was in my way so I couldn't see what he did to Ryan, but it didn't seem like he had done anything because he straightened up soon after, leaving a sobbing Ryan on the ground.

The Joker twirled his switchblade carelessly, a grin on his face. "So. _Close_," he said in a mocking tone as he yanked me from Dave's grip. "Maybe you should, ah, _try_ _again_, Tiger."

I could hear police sirens in the distance, which broke the Joker's concentration on me for a moment. I used that moment to do three things: stomp on his foot, headbutt him, and dig my elbow into his chest.

All three things didn't seem to have any effect on him…despite making him really angry.

The Joker's grip on my arm tightened into a vice, and I grabbed at his shoulder. He reacted faster than I ever could. The firm muscles in his shoulder tensed and then snapped as he smashed me against the car without letting go of my arm.

I felt the glass of the window shatter as my head hit it, and I also felt a pop as my arm got dislocated. The pain in both places was so intense that I only felt it for a few seconds before my body shutdown.

* * *

**Lordlink13: And here is chapter three. Again, I had to rewrite it several times before I came up with this, but I'm quite proud of this chapter. I hope you readers enjoyed it. Please drop a review before you go!  
**


	4. Imprisonment

He was a guy of many names, but he usually went by "Hunter". Only those he worked with knew his real name, but to others – and to his enemies – he was known as "Hunter".

Hunter heard the commotion outside the apartment and sighed with weary irritation as he stood up, sauntering over to the window. When he saw his Boss, he let out another sigh, this one with his relief. The Boss had returned home safely. That's all he cared about.

It seemed like during the night, Greg, John, and a third guy – Hunter couldn't think of his name – had been killed. Two less men working with the Boss. Ryan looked to be in the worst state, having difficulty standing up. He was probably drunk. And while he was _on the job_.

Hunter's hands curled into fists in anger. He didn't understand why the Boss took such _stupid_, lazy men with him for certain jobs. He had thought that the Boss was angry with him, for leaving him behind, as if to punish him. It happened so often…Hunter felt like he was disappointing the Boss.

Hunter looked at the Boss, to see him crouching over someone, a body on the ground. He cranked his neck, to see who it was.

The Boss slipped his arms underneath the body and lifted it up, effortlessly. Hunter had always idolized the Boss for his strength, for his power, for his control. It always made Hunter smile when he saw the Boss showing off. But this time, his smile didn't last long when he realized what – or _who_ – the Boss was carrying in his arms.

It was a…a woman.

Hunter shook with anger and pure hatred as he watched the Boss telling off the rest of his men, heading into the apartment while warily looking around. Through his anger, Hunter could hear the police sirens that were coming closer. Had they followed the Boss home? Where they coming to separate Hunter from the Boss? To bring him back to the white place?

Fear overtook Hunter as he remembered being separated from the Boss. The helplessness, the loneliness…he couldn't fight off all those people in the white place. He didn't like the people in white suits and dresses with white hands. Them and their clipboards and their name tags with their name that started with _Doctor_ or _Nurse_.

Anxiety flooded through him, making Hunter turn away from the window and head for his door. He pushed back several bolts and chains before unlocking the door with a key. He couldn't have his door unlocked unless he knew that the Boss was home; it was the only time he was _safe_.

Hunter left his room, closing the door behind him, and he stood there for a few moments, just listening and looking down the hallway, either way. Then, he heard a burst of laughter, and his mood soared as he raced toward the laughter. But it cut off quickly, and he stopped, confused.

What was wrong with the Boss? Did someone make him stop? Did the police see him and follow him into the apartment?

Hunter stood frozen with fear, his heart pounding rapidly as his breathing accelerated.

A few moments passed, and he felt desperate to get close to the Boss, to make sure that he got into the apartment safely, that he and the Boss were safe from the police.

Hunter ran down the hallway again, turning a sharp turn and coming to a quick halt. He was just in time to see the Boss's purple jacket disappear into a room, slamming the door behind him. Hunter saw Dave supporting Ryan, who was limping with a bloody leg.

"Who's the Boss brought home?" Hunter asked, irritated, wiggling his nose in disgust at Ryan who seemed to have vomited down his front.

Dave shrugged. "Some woman. She's a tough one, though." He glanced at Ryan who raised his head, his eyes glassy.

"What's the Boss plan to _do_ with her?" Hunter demanded, fearing the answer.

"Play with her, I guess," Dave responded. "Don't ask him though. He's pretty angry at the moment."

"But I heard him laughing!"

"Doesn't mean anything." Dave shrugged again, and then walked by Hunter with Ryan in tow.

Hunter's fists clenched as he glared after the huge man supporting the smaller guy. He _hated_ it when he wasn't shown any respect. They respected him when he was working for the Boss. Did they think that they were _better_ than he, just because they were chosen to go with the Boss, not _him_?

A savage growl escaped his lips. He would make them pay. He would have the Boss punish them for treating his most loyal servant badly.

But as he took a step toward the retreating Dave, Hunter stopped as he heard the Boss saying his name.

"Get me a, ah, a first aid kit!"

Hunter's eyes widened as he turned toward the door that was still closed. "Are you hurt?" he asked, fearfully.

"Don't-ah _question_ me! Just do what I _tell_ you!" the Boss's voice growled from behind the door.

"Sorry, Boss…" Hunter ran back to his room and reached under his bed, grabbing a duffel bag. He dropped it on his bed and unzipped it. He pulled out an emergency kit and then ran back to the closed door. He knocked, saying, "I've got it, Boss."

The door opened, and the Boss stood there, his purple jacket missing, leaving him in his hexagonal shirt and green waistcoat. The Boss held out a hand for the kit. Hunter obediently handed it over, and the Boss immediately turned away from him, his attention moving to the woman on the ground.

Hunter shuddered with revulsion. He watched the Boss as he crouched beside the unconscious woman, brushing her long red hair out of her face. Hunter shifted, seeing the blood that covered the woman's face and mixed into her hair, darkening it.

"Who is she?" Hunter asked.

The Boss ignored him as he cleaned and bandaged the woman's wound tightly. Once that was done, the Boss turned the woman over onto her stomach, and he straddled her back, making Hunter clench his fists with unexplainable anger and hatred toward the unconscious woman. Hunter vaguely noticed that the one of the woman's arms was at a weird angle. The Boss took her upper arm while he placed a hand on her dislocated shoulder.

"Boss?" The Boss threw an angry look in his direction, and Hunter had the sense to leave the room, closing the door behind him. Hunter waited outside, listening tentatively. A moment later, a loud painful scream was heard from inside the room.

* * *

I woke up screaming because of the sudden jerk of my arm. Flames of pain scorched my whole arm and shoulder, and tears fell from my stinging eyes. It didn't matter that my dislocated shoulder was popped back into place; it hurt!

"Not-ah the best way to, ah, to wake up," the mocking husky voice remarked, giggling.

I gritted my teeth, closing my eyes and rubbing my eyes dry against the rough carpet on the floor. It didn't take me long to realize that I was lying on my stomach, on the floor, with the Joker straddling me.

"You shouldn't, ah, be _doing_ that," the Joker said about my drying my eyes on the carpet.

"Why _not_?" I demanded, sharply. In pain, beyond exhaustion, and full of anger and hatred. Not a good combination…not to mention the headache that seemed to appear out of nowhere, to bother me and make me crankier.

"Oh, not in a, ah, a good mood, _are_ we?" The Joker laughed as he stood up. I turned over, grabbing his leg, but the Joker straddled me again, sitting on my chest. I tried hitting him, but he reacted quickly, snatching my hands and pushing them down on the ground. "Are you not-ah in the best mood because of, ah, of the _pain_, Tiger? Do you want me to, ah, to make it better?" He grinned widely, and I glared up at him, silent. "How 'bout a kiss?"

He giggled and started to lean in. I decided now was the best time. With him sitting on my chest, my legs were free. I flipped them up and locked my feet on either side of his neck. I could've twisted, but he jerked his head forward, headbutting me. With a burst of energy, I twisted my body, squirming out from underneath him. I tried to climb to my feet, but the Joker bounded over and kicked me in the chest, knocking the wind out of me.

Struggling for air, I collapsed on my side, rolling onto my back, trying to breathe. The Joker straddled me the third time, and grabbed my face.

Without a second thought, I jammed both hands into his coat pockets, grabbing a knife each. I switched the blades and then jabbed them as hard as I could into his sides. The Joker grunted as he tore away from me, grabbing my wrists and tearing my grip free of the knives.

The Joker's painted face did not hide his anger. He gripped my wrists in one hand and slapped me across the face with the other. The sting caused tears to brim in my eyes, blinding me from what the Joker was doing. He gripped a handful of my hair in a firm grip.

The Joker jumped to his feet, kicking me several times. I whimpered in pain, trying to curl into a ball despite trying to grab at my hair, to free it from his grasp.

The Joker released me suddenly, letting me collapse to the floor, but then, he came right back, beating me with flying fists. I just closed my eyes and forced myself to fall limp so that it didn't hurt as much, mentally shutting down my body to the pain. The beating didn't last long though. I only peeked through narrowed eyelids.

The Joker swore harshly as he stepped over to the side, breathing heavily. He turned his face away from me as he gripped his knives' handles, yanking them out violently. A gasp ripped from his mouth, one that turned into a painful chuckle.

I slowly moved to sit up, watching the Joker cautiously, fearing what he might do. His mood changed so rapidly; he was unpredictable. It was too hard to read him, his body language, his expression, his eyes…he used them all to deceive.

The Joker took a deep breath and then suddenly looked over his shoulder at me. I just stared back, not knowing what else to do.

The Joker turned his body, pushing his green-tinted hair back as he said, "Do you enjoy-ah getting _hurt_, Tiger?" he asked as he approached me. He grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me to my feet. He threw me onto a cushioned surface that squeaked in protest under my sudden weight, which I recognized as a bed.

The Joker approached the edge of the bed, his hunched shoulders making him look menacing, but there was a smile on his face. He licked his lips as he brushed his green hair out of his face again. "I was _trying_ to, ah, to be _nice_ by _fix_-ing your shoulder, Tiger, and _this_ is how you repay my _kind_-ness?" The Joker shook his head, clicking his tongue disappointingly as he backstepped toward the door. "For such _child_-ish be-_hav_-ior, I'm going to, ah, to _punish_ you by putting you in time-_out_."

He giggled as he turned on his heel and walked out of the room. After the door closed, I heard him shout at someone. "Why are you just-ah _standing_ there? Get back to, ah, to _work_!" Then, I saw the doorknob turn slightly, locked.

I sat up on the bed, heaving a deep sigh of relief that the Joker was gone. My anger still boiled in my veins, but already, I could feel it cool. Curious as to where the Joker had me, I looked around the room.

The room was…bare. All there was happened to be the bed I was lying on and an old bureau. There were no windows and only one ceiling light. The only color – besides gray walls and floor – was the blue comforter on the bed.

I glanced at my watch, pushing a side button so that it lit up the screen. Nearly five thirty in the morning. Geez, only an hour of sleep in the past twenty-two hours. I could feel the weariness and achiness throughout my body, particularly my eyes where they felt dry from being open for too long.

I collapsed onto my stomach, grabbing the pathetic pillow on the other end of the bed. I pounded it into a shape that was comfortable and then plopped my head down on it.

The problem with a room that had no windows and no circulation is that it got very stuffy and hot. I felt my body heating up, and I had to pull out of my jacket, setting it aside so that I didn't have as many layers. Even as I tried to find a cool spot on the pillow, a pressure grew behind my eyes, to proceed into the beginnings of a headache which came with the force of a pounding hammer.

I moaned in pain as I lied there, defenseless to the heat and the headache. I wished for Tylenol, open windows, a fan, and sleep. At least I wouldn't worry about the prior three if I could just fall asleep.

A few times, I managed to drip under sleep's surface, only to be jerk back into awareness with heavy, accelerated breathing and waves of fear by loud crashes and yells coming from all sides, it seemed.

For hours, I was tormented by the shouting and loud noises from around my closed imprisonment room, being suffocated by the growing heat. I gave in around seven and rolled onto the floor since the floor would be a slight temperature cooler than on the bed.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore so I climbed off the floor slowly and went over to the door. I used a little bit of energy, simply knocking on the door, but gradually, as I realized no one was listening, I became angry and started pounding.

"Hello?" I shouted, banging with my fist. "Can anyone hear me?" It was lame that I, a professional criminal, was asking to be let out, rather than work a way out. I didn't even do _that_ for long.

I finally went over to the dresser and pulled out the drawers. My eyes widened when I noticed a small object underneath the bureau. I reached for it and took it out. A _picklock_?! No, it was just a wire with one end bent into a circle, but a bent wire was better than nothing.

Excited, I went over to the door and pressed my ear against it again, listening. I couldn't hear anyone on the other side so I slipped the wire into the tiny hole of the doorknob – I was lucky to have a hole on my side – and worked it into the gears. Being an expert criminal, it's needless to say that I had that door unlocked within ten seconds. Of course, I had done it in four before on an extremely complex lock, but then, I had my picklocks with me…the ones probably evidence in my used-to-be motel.

I poked my head out into the hallway, checking both ways. Then, I had the thought to replace the wire back, but instead, I placed it between a drawer and its track. To get it, I'd have to pull out the drawer entirely.

I stepped out into the hallway and closed my door behind me, still looking both ways to make sure no one saw me. I walked along the edge of the hall to avoid redundant creaks of the floor. I didn't know how old the building was, but I knew from being lead by the Joker to his bedroom and then to my current imprisonment room that the floor was squeaky in certain areas, particularly the middle.

Each door I came to, I pressed my ear against it, feeling reassure in the thought that I heard some loud snores. The Joker's men were asleep, and that should mean that the Joker – I hoped – was asleep too. But then, he had slept at the same time as I had so it was more likely he was wide awake and just waiting for me somewhere, lurking.

I passed a noisy room, which sounded like there was a TV on a sports channel and there were at least two guys talking loudly, shouting at the sport players. I just rolled my eyes and continued on. What was up with men and sports? Was it necessary for guys to yell at the TV when someone does something wrong? Do they realize that the players weren't going to hear them, even if they are screaming at the top of their lungs?

Quietly, I crept down the hallway and stopped at a bend, slowly peeking around the corner. The coast was clear, and there were stairs at the end of the hall, that led to my freedom. I grinned. Apparently, the Joker thought I wouldn't find any other way out.

Then, I felt cold metal pressed against the base of my head, and I froze with sharp, cold fear. A gloved hand grabbed my arm, and I was thrown up against the wall, facing my captor.

The Joker's grinning face loomed into my face as he pressed his body against mine, trapping me, teasing me with the touch of the cold gun barrel against my temples. "Sneaking _out_-ah, are we?" he asked, licking his lips.

My fear fogged my thinking, and I simply reacted. I kneed him hard and punched him in the chest. He stumbled back, and I shrieked, jumping forward and punching him square in the jaw, knocking him down to the ground. A fit of laughter erupted from the Joker, but he choked as I kicked him hard while he was down before racing down the hall, heading for the stairs.

I vaulted over the metal railing, nearly twisted my ankle as I landed on a landing, half a floor down. Even as the painful shock vibrated through my feet, I ran down the stairs, two steps at a time, leaping for the next landing. As I neared the landing, I grabbed hold of the railing and used it to swing my momentum around in the opposite direction, still heading down.

Unfortunately, as I was halfway down the next stair, everything went dark, like the lights had turned off. I couldn't stop myself in time, and I stepped down on the edge of the next step, tripping. I tried to catch myself on a railing as I fell, but my hands groped at empty air.

I crash-landed on the next landing, whimpering loudly as a sharp pain spiked in my knee, drowning my fear.

The lights turned back on, and I heard excited laughter as someone raced down the steps in similar fashion – two steps at a time. I tried to get up, but the pain in my knee was too much, waves of agony rippling through my leg. It wouldn't be able to support me.

I leaned back against the railing, wincing as I gently touched my knee. Even the delicate tough caused me torment. My exhausted mind registered that I might have dislocated it. The pain was intense; it hurt more than my pounding headache.

"Did you, ah, _really_ think you could get away, Tiger?" the amused voice asked.

My anger flared as I glared at the Joker, who stood on the last step before the landing. He wasn't laughing, but the grin still resided on his smudged face.

He hopped down onto the landing, causing me to wince as the platform vibrated, and sauntered toward me calmly.

"Don't. You. _Dare_." I growled through clenched teeth, empathizing each word as I said them.

The Joker continued to grin at me as he crouched by my hurt leg. I glared daggers at him, my anger boiling in my chest, just waiting to see what he would do. He dropped a hand to my leg, watching me with his eyes.

I kicked him with my other leg, but ended up hurting my dislocated knee. A scream of agony burst from my throat as tears rimmed my eyes. The Joker returned and had taken hold of my knee, causing me to holler.

"You're quite a, ah, a _screamer_," the Joker giggled. Through my blurry vision, I saw his Glasgow smile widened slightly. Then, abruptly, he jerked my knee in one direction, and I screamed bloody murder, kicking him right in the face.

As he fell backward with a grunt and forced laughter, I scrambled to my feet, despite the slightly lessened pain, and raced down the steps again, somehow managing three steps.

The tears blurred my vision so I used the railing for guidance. I roughly wiped them with my sleeve to find that I was nearing the bottom floor, almost to freedom. Renewed hope gave me a burst of energy, but I still cried with my throbbing knee. I was racing four steps down, but the Joker jumped me from behind.

A scream escaped my mouth as we tumbled head-over-heels down the rest of the way. We hit the ground, and my head struck the floor as the Joker landed on top of me, his weight smashing it against the hard ground. The air got knocked out of me as I surrendered to the spiking agony in my head and knee as I tasted blood in my mouth. I could have something broken too, but I didn't want to move to see.

I felt the Joker lift his weight off me, and then, as he pushed me over onto my back, I slipped into unconscious, falling head first into a memory.

"_Oh no! Someone get the nurse!"_

"_What happened?"_

"_A girl's been hit in the head with a baseball."_

_They were only words that jumbled about in my head. I could make little sense of them through the intense pain. So many different voices speaking at once, most in horrified whispers, all distant sounding…_

"_Who was it?"_

"_Sara Reynolds."_

"_Seriously?"_

_The voices were coming closer from all directions. Gradually, I tried to pull out of the center of agony, but it pulled me back as I wandered too far out._

"_Is she breathing?"_

"_She's unconscious."_

"_Hey, kids! MOVE!" someone yelled._

_I heard the sudden shuffle of feet on sand, and someone dropped down beside me. Two fingers pressed themselves against my neck, checking for a pulse. I could feel someone's face close to mine, probably checking for my breathing._

"_Is she breathing?" someone asked again, scared._

"_Yeah," a husky voice replied, the closest voice to me. I felt cool hands on either side of my face. "Shadow," the husky voice whispered, "C'mon, wake up. You're okay."_

_I found myself emerging from the blackness, bringing me pain as I surfaced. My eyelids opened quickly, but I closed them again with a murmured, "Ow."_

"_Too bright of a light, huh, Sara?" the husky voice teased me. One hand covered my eyes. "Open them, Sara, and I'll slowly move my hand so that you can adjust to the light. Don't look up directly."_

_I obeyed, my eyelashes brushing against his hand. He gradually lifted his hand, and I squinted against the harsh light. Then, he had removed his hand completely._

_And I looked up into my best friend's face. His hair pulled out of his face by a rubber band. His eyebrows lowered with worry. His concerned eyes…and most of all, his gentle grin. The smile that always cheered me up when I saw it. It was hard to think that life was hard or depressing whenever he was flashing me that wonderful smile._

_Even as I was about to grin back…his face changed. His tan skin turned white, and around his eyes, blackness appeared. His smile grew larger, twisting up into fleshy scars, and a blood red color materialized over his perfect lips and up his rough scars…my best friend had been replaced by…_

I opened my eyes and blinked, finding myself looking at the Joker's face. He grinned at me, his scars pulling at his lips. "Quite a, ah, a _tumble_," he said, his body shaking with the effort of holding back a giggle. I simply blinked again, and turned my head away from him, moaning as my body acknowledged my pains and bruises.

* * *

**Lordlink13: I'm terribly sorry, guys! I've had a crazy, busy week. I really _did_ try to work on this chapter for you, wanting to keep my updates to happen once a week. This is a few days late, but I hope you guys won't yell at me for it. I like this chapter, but I sorta threw it together within the past few hours. I hope you guys liked it anyway, and please drop a review before you go.**


	5. Slipping Away

The Joker had climbed off me, but I simply lied there on the floor, feeling the coldness seeping into the back of my neck. I closed my eyes, trying to fight off the pain that rippled through my head, causing my headache to grow intensely. Dimly, I was aware of my knee and my shoulder throbbing from having been dislocated within the past few hours. My head hurt the most so all my attention was on it.

"You awake?" the Joker asked.

"Wish I wasn't," I mumbled, and he laughed as he shifted beside me. I felt his arms slip underneath my legs and my upper body, and I snapped open my eyes as he lifted me effortlessly from the ground. "Whoa," I said, startled.

The Joker laughed at my response as he pressed me to his chest to distribute my weight before he headed back up the stairs, managing to scare me with his taking two-steps at a relatively natural pace. I didn't want him to drop me so I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly for dear life. I caught the amused grin that widened on the Joker's face, and I expected him to make some kind of witty remark, but he said nothing.

As we reached the imprisonment floor, the Joker halted, chewing his lip in concentration. Then, I gasped as he dropped my legs, biting the tips of his glove to pull it off. He left his glove in his mouth as he pressed his hand to my forehead, and I jerked away at how warm it felt.

"Maybe the same room wouldn't-ah _work_," the Joker said, more to himself than to me. He pulled me close into his side as he worked his glove back on, playing with his mouth as he thought. "What-ah do you say to, ah, to a _cooler_ room?" he asked me.

"I'd appreciate it," I said, honestly. The last room had been too stuffy; I had thought I was going to _die_ in there.

"_Would_ you now?" he exclaimed. His free arm swept under my legs, and he had me in his arms again. The Joker raced down the hallway, but went right by the room I thought I had been in before. Instead, he stopped at a door that was farthest away from the stairs – the kind of room that made you feel like you were in the Arctic cause you were so far away from society – or in this case, the main area. And what made things worse was that the door wasn't wood; it was metal and gave me the impression of a safe door in the lower levels of a bank.

The Joker dropped my legs suddenly, and I gave a startled cry as my feet slammed down on the floor. Shock shot up my leg, causing my aching knee pain, and I gasped with the intensive force. The Joker seemed to ignore my quiet pain, too busy finding something in his pocket. He pulled out a ring of keys, found a particular key, and inserted it into the lock. Chewing my lip against the minor pain in my knee, I waited until the Joker unlocked the door and had turned the doorknob.

Then, I kicked the door as hard as I could, the force of my kick ripping the doorknob from the Joker's grasp. The door swung into my next prison room, smashing against the wall before slowly swinging back with its momentum smaller.

Surprise flashed across the Joker's face, and then he chuckled as he looked at me, amused. "You haven't-ah even _looked_ at the room yet-ah!" he laughed. He placed a hand at my back and then shoved me roughly into the room, nearly causing me to stumble. I turned toward him, trying to hide how my stumble had started the constant aching in my leg.

"Try getting out-ah," the Joker challenged, grinning widely. "See if you can, ah, can _manage_ it before this _even_-ing."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the Joker had already closed the door. With a sudden rush of anger, I didn't think my actions through. I went over and kicked the door as hard as I could. Had I kicked a wooden door, my foot wouldn't have gotten hurt unless I was wearing shoes. I was wearing my Skechers, but even _they_ didn't protect my foot from my fury combined with a metal door. I cried out in pain and crumpled to the ground, holding my throbbing foot.

The Joker's amused laugh could be heard on the other side of the metal door. "Did that-ah _hurt_?"

"Why don't _you_ try it?" I snapped, angrily pulling my shoe off my hurt foot. I whimpered with pain.

"Ah, no." The Joker chuckled, and I could tell by the gradual fading of his laughter that he was walking away from the door. He obviously thought my pain was funny.

Still on the ground, I rubbed my foot hastily, trying to ease the throbbing pain. When it had reduced to an ache, I pulled my shoe back on and stood up, looking around.

The room wasn't much different from my previous imprisonment, but it was indeed cooler – meaning warm, not hot. There was one window that was nailed shut – obviously to keep prisoners _in_ – that let in the late morning sun. A fan spun from the ceiling, circulating the warm air and creating a breeze. This time, there was only a bed that was nothing more than a bedframe and an old mattress, but as I sat down on the edge of it, it creaked comfortingly. I laid down on the mattress, settling myself in the path of the circulating wind created by the fan, and despite the sun shining in my eyes, I fell into a light sleep.

I slept for an average of fifteen minutes in small segments. I awoke for the smallest of reasons, the shifting of the sunlight, the need to turn over, to re-position, and for moving and causing my shoulder, head, or knee to tense with pain. After waking for the umpteenth time, I sat up and did some stretches to keep my body from stiffening and hurting.

I paced the room, trying to focus my mind on the necessities of life: breathing, moving, breathing, thinking, and did I mention breathing? I sat down on the edge of the bed only to get up and start pacing again. My body felt exhausted, but I was restless; I couldn't stop moving. My mind seemed to be working in overdrive, draining my mental energy.

What was I to do now?

* * *

Hunter turned a dagger around in his hands, the shiny blade reflecting the dim light from the TV screen. He paid no attention to his companions in the room, tuning out their yelling at the people on the television. He was seated in the farther corner of the room, isolating himself from the others.

Hunter was anxious. He didn't know where the Boss was, but he had heard the Boss's laughter and the cries of pain. Goose bumps crept up Hunter's arms at the thought of what the Boss might be _doing_ with the strange woman. He had looked out earlier to see the woman ran past the room, but as the Boss passed by, he had slammed the door shut, nearly hitting Hunter.

That wasn't a long time ago. Five…maybe ten minutes ago. No…Hunter hated it when he lost track of time. He glanced at his watch, remembering the time he had seen before when he nearly had the Boss slamming the door in his face. Six, seven hours…that's how long it's been.

Hunter wanted to know where the Boss was. Dave had said that the woman was a tough one. Hunter wasn't worried that the woman was stronger than the Boss; _no one_ was stronger than the Boss. He just worried that the Boss…the Boss…

Hunter stood up violently, knocking his chair over. At the exact moment, Dave jumped to his feet, yelling at the television set as the screen became fuzzy. The big man went over and slammed his fist on the top, denting it slightly and fixing the screen.

Hunter watched, terrified as Dave made his way back to his seat on the couch that he was sharing with two other guys. There was a shot of pain from Hunter's hand, but he ignored it as he left the room. He paid no mind to the agony as he hurried toward the Boss's bedroom. He came to a halt, dreading the possibility that the woman was in there with the Boss.

Hunter pressed his ear to the door and didn't hear anything out the ordinary. The stinging pain was becoming unbearable so Hunter glanced down at his hand to see what was wrong. He felt a strange calm as he looked at the blood on his hand where his dagger had cut his palm. Slowly unclenching it, Hunter let his bloodied blade drop to the floor as he stared at the dripping blood, fascinated.

He blinked, and he saw the Boss's hand, his purple glove covered with blood.

"_What-ah _use_ would you be to, ah, to me?" the Boss asked._

Hunter closed his eyes, remembering.

"_I-I'm a doctor! I can do _anything_ you need me to do!"_

"_I don't-ah believe that."_

"_But you must!"_

_The Boss looked at him, giving him a sidelook of thought. "What hospital puts their own doctors into, ah, into asylums?" he asked, shaking his head. He pushed his hair back with his stainless glove. "Tell you what-ah. Get your, ah, medical records and get them to, ah, to me."_

"_M-My medical records? I don't understand…"_

_The Boss punched him, jerking his head to the side. "You don't-ah _have_ to understand. You just need to, ah, to _connect_."_

Hunter opened his eyes, sighing as his memory faded away from his grasp. But it was true. He had taken what the Boss had said to him to heart. He didn't have to understand the Boss to work for him; all he had to do was connect, and that was hardly a chore for Hunter, who was ever so loyal to the Boss.

Hunter reached for the doorknob, touching it with his bleeding hand, and he tried it, finding that it wasn't locked. His heart gave a frightened leap. Was the Boss not in there? He opened the door and looked inside.

Hunter heaved a deep sigh of relief, glad to find the Boss lying flat on his back on the bed. The Boss's arm reached over his head, draping over the pillow. In that hand, the Boss was clenching his switchblade with the knife closed. Hunter had snuck in many times before to make sure that the Boss didn't accidently stab himself in his sleep. The Boss's eyes were shut, his chest heaving with deep breathing, his mouth relaxed; though his scars held his grin in place, still making him look menacing.

Hunter felt a wave of warmth at the sight of the Boss. There wasn't anywhere safer for Hunter. Only the Boss could protect him.

He also felt relieved that the Boss had finally gone to bed, despite it being close to three in the afternoon. The Boss hadn't slept for the past two days, being too energized and busy to sleep. It always worried Hunter when the Boss didn't sleep for more than twenty-four hours. Hunter was convinced that the Boss was going to run himself to his grave, the one thing Hunter didn't want to happen to the Boss.

Simple separations from the Boss such as when the Boss was on a job or when he was somewhere else in the hideout, Hunter could handle, but long periods of time, Hunter became hysterical, scared, and that was when he could easily be caught by the police where he was only separated from the Boss even _longer_.

The Boss grunted loudly, breaking Hunter out of his thoughts. The Boss mumbled something too low for Hunter to hear, and then he turned his head toward the open windows.

Hunter couldn't move. When awake, the Boss was energetic, dangerous, even _frightening_, but while asleep, thought he still looked scary, he seemed vulnerable. Hunter wished to stay and protect the Boss while he slept.

Hunter started to leave the room when the Boss abruptly sat upright, yelling something indecipherable before bursting with hysterical laughter.

"Why didn't I think about that _before_!" the Boss howled, excitedly. He bounded right off the bed and raced for the door. Hunter wasn't quick enough to hide before the Boss flew out of his bedroom.

The Boss stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of Hunter, and Hunter's feet were rooted to the spot. Under the Boss's gaze, Hunter wasn't going to escape.

The Boss stared at him, and then grinned widely. "A report-ah?" he asked. "Thought I told you to, ah, to _take the day off_."

"Y-You didn't," Hunter stammered.

"I know," the Boss said, smacking Hunter's cheek painfully. "Just-ah _test_-ing you." The Boss giggled and then ran down the hall, disappearing around the corner.

Stunned, Hunter just stood there.

* * *

I nearly fell off the bed with a startled cry as the metal door slammed open, and the Joker made his appearance, his arms outstretched to the sides, tossing something to the side on the floor. When I looked, I recognized it as my jacket that I had abandoned when I had tried to make my first escape.

"Hi, Tiger! Miss me?" he asked, yelling gleefully.

With a pounding headache, I winced and involuntarily covered my ears as I moaned, digging my head into the mattress, wishing he'd go away.

"That's not-ah what I ex-_pect_-ed." The Joker giggled, and I felt the old mattress give way alarmingly. It squealed in protest of the Joker's added weight, making the Joker laugh harder. "Maybe I should-ah change this room a _bit_." His voice was right over my head, and I pressed my hands harder against my ears, wishing dearly that he'd leave me alone.

"C'mon, you're no _fun_," the Joker complained, pushing me onto my side. I glared at him, and he laughed as he tore my hands away from my ears. "What's the _matter_, Tiger? Uncomfortable?"

"No, I'm plenty comfortable when you're _not_ in the room," I growled.

The Joker gave me an injured look. "You're so, ah, so _mean_. I'm trying to, ah, to be a nice guy, and you're just hurting my _feel_-ings."

"You have feelings?" I asked, in mocking surprise. "I didn't think the Joker even _knew_ what emotions were."

The Joker's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You're in a, ah, a _mood_, aren't-ah ya?"

"Nooo, _really_?" I mocked. "Try pretending you're in my shoes. Being locked up for hours in a suffocating room. It's no better than the _previous_ one, and that one was hot during the _beginning_ of the day!"

The Joker jerked his head up, a look of concentration crossing his face for a second. "Yeah," he said slowly, "It _does_ seem to be a bit _hot_ in here." He looked up at the circulating fan and then turned his attention back to me. "And that's not-ah helping _at all_!"

"Well, no _duh_," I said, "I came to that same conclusion _hours_ ago." The Joker frowned at me – or seemed to. "Listen, why the heck did you kidnap me if you're only going to lock me up in a room for hours? Surely you must have some idea of what you're going to do." I gave him a hateful stare. "Or were you thinking of some _sick_ version of the word 'fun'?"

The Joker laughed as he climbed off the bed. "You don't-ah _trust_ me, do you?" he asked, amused.

"Of _course_ not. You _kidnapped_ me!"

The Joker lifted his hands as if to defend himself. "I just-ah spared you from some other people who might-ah want you."

"Want?" I repeated. "I had just _arrived_ in Gotham six hours before I met you."

"Ah! New in Gotham City. No _wonder_ you were so _easy_ to, ah, to find."

"You didn't follow me though," I argued. "You didn't know where I lived."

"All I needed to, ah, to do was _ask directions_."

I had a remark prepared, but I bit it back, as I realized what he had said. He looked at me, his expression amused as he watched the realization appear on my face. He knew about me stalking Raven and asking her the way back to my motel. Either he _had_ followed me or he had gotten his information through Raven, either willingly or not.

Unable to come up with something to say, I noticed that the Joker was taking a few steps backward, heading for the door.

"Leaving so soon?" I asked. I felt a panic rise in my chest, worried that he was going to leave me to another many hours of loneliness. He continued to move back, watching me, and I felt a small grin stretching across my lips.

The Joker halted and grinned. "Very ob-_ser_-vant, _Sha_-dow," he said, his voice filled with pride. "Good to, ah, to know that I'm dealing with someone with a clear _head_."

He flashed me an extra wide grin, and then, in what seemed like one fluent movement, flung the door open, stepped out, and closed it again.

I blinked in surprise before I jumped off the bed and slammed into the door. I hit it with my shoulder and bounced right off. "_Jerk_!" I yelled. His response was an amused chuckle and the _click_ of him locking the door.

I would've kicked the door, but I had done that already and had learned my lesson. My foot felt bruised still from the first time, and now, I had my shoulder that was throbbing with another forming bruise.

Huffing with exasperation, I ran my hand through my hair, brushing it out of my face. I just _loved_ how whenever I was irritated, my hair fell in my face, like it wanted me to rip it out in frustration.

But like the Joker had said, I was a woman who had a clear head…_most_ of the time. And the Joker should be aware that clear-headed people tend to be more dangerous than others.

Well, this clear-minded woman has come to a decision.

I've had enough of this. The Joker had left me in the room alone again. There's something about being alone that I liked, but not when it was forced on me. I didn't like suffocating in this room – no more than my previous imprisonment. I was getting out one way or the other, and I had two options of how to do it.

I pressed my ear flat against the metal door, listening. It didn't seem like there was anyone on the other side, not like I was planning on getting out that way.

I went over to the nailed-shut window. I didn't have anything to pull the nails out, and I was _definitely_ not strong enough to yank the window open. Leave that to men who were all muscle and no brains. No, my method was simple but a bit painful – a great deal more if I didn't do it right.

I clenched my fist of my worst hand – my left – and I slammed it into the window as hard as I could.

Luck was with me because the window was old. It still hurt me to punch the glass hard enough to break it, but despite the blood and stinging pain, it was worth it. Even more so when I felt a gush of cooler air than what was in the room. I remained standing there by the window, just savoring the free flow of oxygen.

Then, I grudgingly brought my attention back to the window where I punched out the rest of the glass pieces that still resisted in the pane.

I stuck my head out and discovered that I was five-stories high. Always a comforting thought to know that you just might break something if you fall a good distance like five-stories. Good thing I wasn't afraid of heights, just uncomfortable with them. Just looking down to the alleyway sent a rush of adrenaline through my system, boosting my enthusiasm to escape.

I pushed on the window pane, gauging its sturdiness, my eyes watching for any cracks that could cause a break when I put my foot on the cement ledge. It seemed sturdy enough, not like I weighed that much. One hundred thirty for a woman who was only five foot five. That was normal, and I was obviously _weightless_ to the Joker who never had a problem picking me up and carrying me anywhere.

I shook my head. I was getting distracted. _Focus, Shadow_, I told myself.

I checked both sides to locate a fire escape that I could use. There was one several windows to my right. Great. At least I was trained as an assassin when I first joined the Mob; climbing along ledges were _just. My. Thing._

After listening at the metal door again for any sign that someone had heard me breaking the glass and retrieving my jacket from where the Joker had discarded it, I returned to the window and after finding a hold on the sides of the window, I stepped carefully onto the ledge.

My Skechers had a good grip, particularly on cement where it usually had tiny bits poking up that clothing would catch on if you rubbed it against the hard material. I moved quickly, shifting my hold on the window to the outside and straightening with my feet placed firmly on the ledge.

The apartment's windows were relatively close to one another. I hugged the wall as I moved slowly, making sure I had a firm grip on both the ledge and the top of any window I came upon. This wasn't a job to rushed, since it would mean a _long_ fall to the ground where I would probably lay with broken bones and blood…I shuddered at the graphic image that flashed through my mind.

I passed windows that were open, which caused me to huff in minor anger. The Joker certainly didn't care about me suffocating or overheating to death. To be on the safe side, I peeked quickly into each window that I reached to ensure that no one was inside to see me.

One room I passed as quick as I could allow myself because of a man dangling off of his bed, snoring away with his arm over his eyes. The bottle on the ground by the man's head explained his situation. I even did a double-take to recognize the sleeping guy as Ryan, the one with the awful hangover, the one who had displeased the Joker more than once and was surprisingly _still_ alive.

I reached the fire escape and heaved a deep sigh as I gripped it with a hand and stepped on the edge with a foot. I realized that my heart had been racing, pumping a rush of adrenaline through me, which was fine since it just made my reflexes better and faster.

I couldn't help but let out a small laugh for my success of getting to the fire escape without incident. However, as I climbed over the railing to safety, my foot caught on the metal, and I collapsed loudly on the metal fire escape.

My breath caught in my throat as I landed, stunned for a few moments. So perfect…until the end. That was how it _always_ worked, didn't it? Life was so un_fair_.

"Someone's on the fire escape!"

I gasped, knowing that I was definitely caught. Through the openness of the fire escape, I saw two guys fighting to stick their heads out of their window, a floor below me. One of them shoved the other in, and stuck out his head, looking above first. He saw my form through the metal.

"Who is it?" the other guy inside demanded.

"It's the boss's girl," the guy said.

My eyes widened, and I panicked, climbing to my feet desperately.

"Quick, get her before she escapes!" I stood transfixed for a moment, watching as the first guy stepped out of the window onto the fire escape. Then, I snapped out of it, feeling fear pump through my veins, mixed with my adrenaline.

I had only two ways out. Either run down or run up, and since the guy was down, my only option was up. So I raced up the fire escape. I heard the second guy grunt as he tried to force his way out of the window while the first man pounded after me.

As I raced, I realized that I might have made the wrong choice. When I reached the top of the fire escape, I wouldn't have any way out, unless I could find another fire escape.

Too soon, I reached the top and stopped dead, panting heavily with panic. I tried to force myself to calm the breathing; I'd start hyperventilating soon if I couldn't control myself. And if that happened, I was _definitely_ caught again.

Then, I saw my exit. Another fire escape on the apartment building standing close to the one I was currently standing on. I looked over the edge, shivering at how long the distance seemed. It didn't matter that I had two pursuers, I didn't want to go.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped onto the railing of my fire escape, trying to balance since I didn't have the bottom of the metal stairs over my head – the disadvantage of racing to the very top. I simply crouched on the railing, holding onto it with my hands and jerking violently in one direction to another.

My pursuers were catching up. I _had_ to balance in order to pay attention to gauge the distance.

"Stay there, girl!" the first pursuer said, catching up.

I had no time. I released my hold with my hands, straightened, and then leaned forward as I pushed off with my legs, as hard as I could.

I was flying. Time seemed to slow as I took off, arms outstretched to the sides like a bird. My body fought gravity for several long seconds before my stomach lurched. Soaring through the air, a graceful flight until gravity grabbed hold. I reached for the nearing fire escape with my hands, hoping, wishing that I wouldn't miss.

Time snapped into reality, and my hands closed around the railing. My grip couldn't stop my momentum. I hit the railing hard, knocking the air out of me. I hung on tightly as I tried to regain my breath before placing my feet and climbing over the railing – careful not to catch my foot again.

Then, I raced down the fire escape, gripping the vertical pole to swing my momentum around so that I didn't break my stride, minimizing my speed loss. Reaching the last set of stairs, I pushed off the fourth stair, flying through the air again, and hit the ground running.

As I turned out of the alley, running as fast as I could, I couldn't stop the grin from appearing on my face. I had escaped! I was free! And I was still alive! Bruised and hurting, yes, but I was still alive.

I had slipped out of the Joker's grasp.

* * *

**Lordlink13: Once I actually had time to sit down and finish this chapter, I couldn't help but wonder how the rest of the story was gonna go. I thought this was an exciting character, and I feel like I'm doing okay with the Joker's character. Tell me otherwise in a review. With the experiment of putting Hunter's story in there as well, I almost feel like I could get away with writing from the Joker's POV, merely because Hunter has basically the same diagnose that the Joker has. I must have had too many skittles lately; I'm writing out loud. So yes, **Sinario**, I AM HAPPY that you had dropped a review. Mistah J would like to know what you would do if I _wasn't_ happy. Anyway, don't forget to review before you go. See you next time!**


	6. Adversary's Warning

I was happy to have escaped the Joker's grasp. My heart soared with the air rushing in my face as I ran. I felt so excited, so energized that I didn't dare stop running, wanting distance better me and my imprisonment. Finally, I forced myself to stop down to a walk, panting heavily as I realized what the time was.

Five thirty. People would be going home from work, and seeing a woman in a jacket running as if she were running for her life in the summer would make them suspicious. I started to pull off my jacket when I realized that it would be better if I continued to wear it, despite the heat that my body had created with the furious running.

As I was standing at a red light to cross the street, I heard someone gasp by my side. I looked to see an old woman staring intensely at my hand.

"Darling, your hand!" she exclaimed.

I glanced at my hand, realizing that it had dried blood on it. "Oh, that," I said, trying to pretend confusion and shock. "How did _that_ happen?"

"I don't know, but you should have it looked at."

"That I should," I said. Smiling nicely, I explained, "I'm new in this city. Could you tell me how to get to the nearest hospital?"

She nodded and gave me a set of directions that I only remembered a few parts. I thanked her and headed off, storing my hands in my pockets as I walked away.

I didn't head toward the hospital; I just needed some water to clean my hand, and maybe something to wrap it. I wandered, not really paying any attention to my surroundings or where I was going.

When I looked up, my eyes went right over a particular building, and I ended up doing a double-take, blinking harshly against the setting sunlight. Having just about spent my adrenaline rush, I was beginning to feel weary again, and it took my tired mind a few moments to recognized The Stacked Deck. I was on the exact street that I had first crossed paths with the Joker.

I shuddered at the memory and kept walking, hurrying away from the spot.

It wasn't like I was revolted by the memory; I just didn't want to confront it, I didn't want to admit to myself that I had been so easy for the Joker to catch me. I had prided myself for years for my ability to easily avoid capture by the police or other Mob assassins. The Joker's callous ease at kidnapping me painfully humbled me.

I walked for what seemed like hours before I sighted a familiar sight. The sign for Hyde Park, the same park I had ran to the night before.

I almost turned and walked away from it because of the memory it brought. It was an hour or two after I had reached here that I had been captured by the Joker last night. I scanned the grounds, seeing children playing on the swings with their parents talking to friends, keeping an eye on their kids. A stand selling hot dogs was close by, a few parents buying their kids a small dinner.

I crouched on the sidewalk, pretending to tie my shoe as I reached into my Skecher. I've learned over the years that it's best to have some money on your person at all times, but it shouldn't be placed in a wallet because anyone would steal it from you. I usually tried to keep a twenty in my shoe, but since I knew I was headed for a dangerous city like Gotham, I had stored away three twenties.

I bought two hot dogs for my first meal in twenty-four hours, being careful to hide the dried blood on my throbbing hand to avoid unnecessary attention. With my food, I found a bench under a hulking tree that blocked out the sun entirely around the area. I savored the taste of hot dog and ketchup while I watched the kids playing, listening to the birds that chirped lazily in the summer air. My stomach growled as I wiped my hands on my jeans, but I wasn't going to buy more hot dogs; I'd look like a starving pig.

I lifted my feet onto the bench, stretching out and using my arm curled behind my head as a pillow. With all the people around, I doubted that if the Joker was out searching for me, he'd approach me in a populated area- or at least I hoped. It didn't matter much to me as I felt exhaustion creep up on me again. I've had too much excitement with very little sleep; since The Stacked Deck wouldn't be open for another two hours or so, a little shut-eye could be in order.

I awoke with difficulty, wanting to sleep more, but the sense of being watched alerted me. I forced myself to sit up casually, raising my arms over my head in a stretch. My eyes scanned the surrounding area, searching for any sign of people. The parents had taken their kids home for dinnertime, leaving the park deserted, besides me.

I glanced at my wristwatch, seeing that it was 7:37 PM. The Stacked Deck would be open with a good amount of customers, if not full yet. I checked to make sure that some naughty kid hadn't stolen my extra change from the twenty I had used to buy my meager meal before pushing myself off the bench, bending my back to crack it.

"Congratulations on the escape." The chilling voice from behind made me jump, spinning sharply. A man dressed in black clothing stood mere feet away from me, behind the bench. He wore a ski mask over his head so I couldn't see his features, and if that wasn't enough to put me on alert, the threatening tone certainly did. "The escape through the window was your only way out, but it was exciting to find out you had outrun the twin brothers."

"Who are you?" I demanded, my tone hard, "And how long have you been standing there?"

"I just arrived," he answered, "And they call me Hunter."

"I can't say I've heard of you." I tried to sound like I was insulting him, but he only shrugged impassively.

"Very few have. I don't show my face often."

"Doesn't seem like you show your face at all," I stated, gesturing toward his ski mask.

"Pardon me, I meant to say that I don't show _myself_ often." I raised an eyebrow, surprised. The mystery guy had manners, despite his lack of emotion when he spoke in his chilling voice. "I see you've gotten hurt when escaping," Hunter said, pointing at my hand.

"I'm fine," I said, shoving my hands into my pockets. "State your business, Hunter. Why are you here?"

"I came to warn you. The Boss is looking for you, and he'll go all out to retrieve you."

"The boss?" I questioned. "Is he some Mob leader, or your boss?"

"No, he's not _my_ boss; he's _the_ Boss."

"You know about my escape. You must be one of the Joker's minions. You must be refer-."

"No," Hunter interrupted me, his tone revealing quick anger. "I'm not his minion."

"You don't work for the Joker?"

"No, I work for the Boss."

I narrowed my eyes, suspiciously. "Who is this _boss_?"

"You've met him."

"The Joker?"

"NO!" Hunter yelled, angrily. Violently, he launched himself over my bench, his hands outstretched to grab me. I ducked out of the way, bringing up my arm as Hunter threw a clenched fist toward my face. Blocking it, I stomped on his foot with my heel to give me time to move away.

"Look, I meant no offense-," I began, but Hunter recovered and came at me, howling angrily as he threw blows at me. My trained reflexes kicked in, and I deflected each of Hunter's hits, letting him tire himself out.

Gradually, Hunter began to tire, and I felt my temper stir. I decided to end it before he completely tired himself out. As he threw a pathetic punch, I grabbed his wrist, ducking under his arm and slapping his other hand away from me. I tucked myself against his chest and with a heave, I threw him over my shoulder by his arm, slamming him down against the cement walkway.

Hunter gasped in pain as he hit the ground. I dropped his arm and took several steps away, my brow frowned with the beginnings of a headache.

"Look, you don't attack people for no reason!" I snarled, angrily.

"Your interference…makes me _angry_," Hunter growled as he slowly rolled over.

"Sorry to have gotten on your nerves."

"I want you…to leave Gotham," he continued, getting to his hands and knees.

"_Real_-ly?" I asked, putting a hand on my hip. "Who said _you_ were in charge of Gotham's underbelly?"

"It's the Boss who's in charge."

"Heck with your 'Boss'."

He jerked his head up and glared at me, his eyes full of hatred. "I'll hunt you down for _insulting_ the Boss."

"Is _that_ what gave you your name?" I demanded. "You hunt random people down?"

"You were hardly random, _woman_."

My eyes narrowed dangerously, and I felt my blood boil with irritation. "Don't come near me again or I swear, I'll _kill_ you," I spat. I didn't give him time to retort; instead I just turned on my heel and walked away from him, my steps proud and confident. Usually, I would never turn my back on an enemy – or just any stranger – but the guy was down and wouldn't come after me if he knew what was good for him.

However, before I left Hyde Park's premises, I glanced over my shoulder. The mysterious Hunter was gone. I shivered involuntarily as I checked my money again before continuing on my way.

The Stacked Deck was crowded with people drinking and playing games when I arrived. Luckily for me, it wasn't the same bartender as last night, but that didn't do much to ease my worry of being recognized. I remained near the entrance for a few moments, trying to think of what to do. I wasn't going to drink since I was technically on the run, avoiding capture.

I needed a getaway car. Since the Joker had blown my motel room – and my belongings – skyward, I had nothing left. I checked my pockets for my wallet and found that that too was gone. Well, let the Joker have my money and my alias IDs; there was nothing in my wallet that I would regret losing.

Looking around at the ruddy crowd, I felt the urge to run and hide. In large crowds, I felt uncomfortable and nervous, but I forced myself to take a deep breath – where I inhaled smoke and a tint of alcohol – to calm my nerves. I just wished it was cooler in here since with so many people moving and talking, they created too much heat.

I caught sight of a table where four men were drinking and playing Poker near the backroom. The backroom would lead to an exit door, which would supply an emergency exit should things get ugly. Moving slowly toward the small group, I studied them from afar, checking for weapons or any danger.

As I approached, the men suddenly reacted, one throwing his cards down with a gleeful shout, another throwing his hands up, aggravated. The third took a long swig from his beer bottle, draining it, while the fourth guy slowly closed his fan of cards.

"You _always_ win, Shaun!" the irritated guy complained, loudly.

"Thought me almost had it," the drinking man whined.

"You guys are such _losers_," the gleeful one, Shaun laughed as he slid all the money from the center toward him.

"I'm pretty sure you cheat," the last man said, calmly gathering all the cards into one pack.

"You're too calm for this type of game, Ron," Shaun snickered.

"Calmness forms a perfect poker face," Ron replied, shuffling the deck. "Go play somewhere else. You've taken all our money; we're broke."

"That I will," Shaun said, happily pushing the money into a bag. He tied it off and stood. "Goodnight, gentlemen. Try to entertain yourself while the night's still young." He slapped a ten on the table. "Here, get yourselves some drink or pay for a bed companion. It's on me." He winked and then moved away, nearly bumping into me on his way out. "Sorry, miss," he said, and then he did a double-take. "Well, are you a cop or something?" he asked.

"No," I said, smiling sweetly. "Do I look like one?"

"You look like you're in pretty bad shape with that hand." He pointed. "Need a lift somewhere?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm set."

Shaun nodded, grinned, and then continued on his way.

I approached the table with the three remaining guys, and Ron and the irritated one watched me intently. The third guy grabbed the ten and waved it in the air, oblivious to the fact that I was standing nearby.

"I'm gonna have another. What 'bout you guys?" he asked.

"You've had enough for one night, Bill," Ron told him, eying me. "Besides, we've got a visitor."

"Wha'?" Bill turned in his seat and squinted at me, frowning. Then, he grinned sheepishly. "Well, well, someone wants some company?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "No," I said, taking Shaun's vacated chair and turning it, propping the back against the edge of the table. I sat down with my legs spread out, and I folded my arms on the back of the chair. "Mind if I watch you play?"

The irritated one answered. "Do whatever you want."

"Kevin, that's not the way you talk to a woman," Ron scolded, riffling the deck of cards.

"It doesn't matter. I don't have any money left."

"If you would stop being so aggressive and throwing all your money on the table in one-."

Kevin slapped his hand on the table angrily. "Don't go criticizing me, Ron, when you do it yourself."

"Wrong, I spread it out a lot more." Kevin growled, and Ron smirked, turning his attention to me. "Do you know how to play?" he asked.

"If none of you mind," I said with a careless shrug.

"How much money you got?" Kevin demanded. Ron threw a glare at him, but Kevin's attention was on me.

"How much do _you_ have?" I asked in return, pulling out my last two twenties. I didn't bother with my change from my third one; I'd use that later if I had to.

Kevin eyed the money hungrily and nodded.

I glanced at Bill but found that he had his head on his arms, oblivious to the world around him. I grinned and took the ten from Bill's hand, placing it in the center of the table. "All right," I said, "Deal out the cards."

Ron nodded and started flicking them out rapidly. "What's your name?" he asked, curiously.

"Janet," I said, saying the first name that popped into my head.

"I'm Ron, and this is Kevin." Ron had finished dealing out the cards. "All right, ladies first."

As the game started, I realized that this wasn't a very talkative group. Besides the calls of poker, Kevin, Ron, and I hardly said anything. From the expressions that raced across Kevin's face, I could tell that he wasn't a very good poker player, merely because you could easily read his cards on his face. By his movements and impatience, it was easy to tell that he was a greedy aggressive player who couldn't keep a straight face.

The one I found interesting was Ron. No matter how hard I studied his expression, I couldn't read it. I finally surrendered and tried to focus on what I had in my hand, but I kept looking at Ron. I couldn't help checking him out.

He was handsome, youthful, probably close to my age with short black hair and bangs that occasionally fell over his deep brown eyes. I couldn't help but notice that his nose was slightly out of alignment, like someone had broken his nose when he was younger and it hadn't healed in the correct position. It was well hidden though; anyone who just glanced at him would not have noticed his nose. I thought it gave him character.

I played a few games with Kevin and Ron, ending each game with the urge to continue. That was always my problem with gambling; I'd get caught up in it so easily. There was that, and I had a cute guy to look at. Despite that all, I _did_ feel the need to leave. The longer I remained, the more of a chance the Joker would find me and take me back.

"All right, last one for me," Ron said as he dealt the cards out. "Let's make it quick. I'd like to get enough sleep for once."

I looked at him, curiously. As he made his call, I did notice some dark circles under his eyes.

"Okay, ready to show your cards?" I asked, my voice sounding depressed.

"You should have Folded earlier if you didn't have any good cards," Kevin said, smacking down his cards. He had a Four-of-a-Kind for the four Aces.

"Darn, I was close," Ron said, defeated. He revealed his four Jacks, and then looked up at me. "What did you have?"

"Four Queens," I said, wearily. "Kevin wins."

Kevin yelped with joy as he dived for the money pile, but Ron stopped him with an arm.

"Hold on, let me see your cards," Ron ordered.

"I told you I got four Queens. Kevin's Kings beat my Queens." I stood up, slipping my only non-Queen card away from the others.

"I don't think you're telling the truth," Ron said, still watching me closely.

Kevin growled, standing up violently. "Just show him what the card is!" He grabbed me wrist and snatched my card out of my hand, glancing at it.

His eyes widened, and then he looked at me with hatred. "You had the joker card," he seethed. "You _witch_! He'll be on his way here!" He pulled a knife out of his jeans pocket.

Ron came to my rescue. He grabbed Kevin's knife wrist, twisting it behind his back. As Kevin's grip tightened on my arm, Ron grabbed Bill's empty bottle and smashed it on Kevin's head. With a grunt, Kevin dropped to the floor.

I rubbed my wrist, wincing. "Thanks," I said.

Ron grinned. "No problem."

Then, gunshots erupted from the nightclub entrance, and Ron and I ducked down behind our table as screams rang out about the club. A shiver ran up my spine at the sound of the familiar sinister laugh.

"Sorry to, ah, to _bother_ you fine folks, but I'm _look_-ing for someone."

I peered over the tabletop, proving my fear. Kevin was right; the Joker had been headed here, and here he was.

"You must be new in Gotham," Ron whispered, close to me.

I nodded, too afraid to speak.

"There's the myth that the Joker appears whenever someone uses his calling card. It's just coincidence that he happened to come here when you revealed his card."

The sudden shifting of chairs and tables alerted me, and I peered over the table again, seeing the Joker propping his side against the bar, casually. He was chatting in a low tone with the bartender, his eyes restlessly shifting around the room, looking at faces, clothing, searching for sudden movements. When I thought he was about to look my way, I ducked down slowly.

There were four guys with him. Two of them I recognized to be the two men who had chased me on the fire escape – the "twin brothers" that Hunter had mentioned. They weren't twins though; they didn't even look related in any way.

Besides them, the third man was poor Ryan who looked like he had been rudely awakened despite his recovering from a hangover. While trying to look threatening for his part, Ryan looked like he could collapse any moment. It made me wonder if he was _always_ drinking and being drunk or dealing with a hangover. He had to be walking on a line, just _waiting_ to be put down like a sick dog.

The fourth man, I hadn't seen before. I had expected it to be Dave, but no, this was a different man, maybe four inches taller than the Joker with blond hair and sideburns. Just the _look_ of him looked threatening – not so much as the Joker, but he seemed like a guy who hadn't smiled _once_ before he started working with the Joker.

"_C'mon_, champ," the Joker said loudly, leaning over the counter and lightly smacking the bartender's cheek. "You've _work_-ed here for about-ah seven years. You'd re-_cog_-nize a _new_ customer."

The bartender stood there, trembling and biting his lower lip. The grin on the Joker's face started to fade, and he huffed, pushing off the bar, walking away as he checked his gun for ammo.

"Ya know, _Tom_," the Joker said sadly as he turned sharply on his heel. "When a guy _asks_ for something _polite_-ly, people are _us_-ually nice enough to, ah, to give him what he ask-_ed_ for." The Joker sauntered forward, placing his hands flat on the counter and leaning over to bring his face closer to the bartender's. "I'm _done_ with being _nice_. Don't-ah make this _diff_-icult, Tom. Just _give_ me what I want-ah and I'll-."

"I don't have new customer tonight!" the bartender blurted out, hysterical. "I swear! These are all the usual patrons!"

The Joker reached over the counter and grabbed the man by his apron, yanking him forward and bringing him face-to-face with his menacing white face. "I'm. Not-ah. _Deaf!_" the Joker yelled at the poor man, who cringed and looked like he was on the verge of tears. "Ya know, Tom, a man like you should _know_ better than to, ah, to _inter_-rupt people. That's what I can't-ah _stand_."

The Joker roughly shoved the terrified man away from him and turned to look at the patrons of The Stacked Deck. "Wanna know what _else_ I can't stand?" he asked loudly. His gun switched hands as he said, "Liars." He cocked the gun and fired behind him, shooting the bartender between the eyes.

Several women in the nightclub shrieked as blood spurted out of the man's head before he dropped dead behind the counter. Seeing the reactions of the patrons, the Joker started laughing hysterically, his eyes alight with excitement, enjoying the fear suffocating the room.

I nearly screamed in fear, almost giving myself away, when Ron nudged my side. Looking at him, I couldn't help but fearing that he might be considering handing me over to the Joker. However, if he did plan to do that, I wouldn't have been able to do anything since he grabbed my wrist and lifting me to my feet, pulling me after him.

I collided with a chair as I stumbled after Ron, knocking it over. I fell over it, crashing to the floor and hitting my head on a table leg. The clatter caught the Joker's attention, and he snapped out of his fit of laughter instantly. I scrambled to my feet to follow after Ron, but the Joker stood in my way.

I ran straight into him.

He caught me, stepping back with my small momentum. The Joker laughed cheerfully as I struggled, but he seemed to have the strength of a bull, gripping me tightly in an embrace. "Well, well, well, seems like my _hunch_ was cor-_rect_-ah," he giggled, licking his lips. Firmly wrapping an arm around my waist and trapping my arms against him, he waved his gun at the patrons. "I've found what-ah I've been _look_-ing for. Get back to, ah, to your drinks and games."

I tried to break from the Joker's hold again, straining to free myself, but the Joker's grip was too tight. I didn't want to go with him.

"C'mon, _dar_-ling, I can't-ah let you go off on your own. You might-ah _get lost_." The Joker laughed as he led me toward the entrance.

Then, we stopped as glass splintered over me. I blinked quickly, feeling the Joker's grip lessen for a split second. That split second was all I needed.

I quickly headbutted him, jumping on his feet and digging in my heels. The Joker's grasp slackened, and I shoved him away from me before turning to find who had aided me.

Ron motioned me to duck, a broken beer bottle in his hand. He chucked the glass at me, and I ducked just in time. It fell over my head and struck the Joker, hitting him in the back of the head. Then, Ron reached out toward me, and I grabbed his wrist, racing after him.

A frustrated growl echoed behind me before a gunshot blasted near my ear, momentarily deafening me. Ron led me to the backdoor, going through the backroom. We ran through the storage crates and burst out into the back alley.

Ron slammed the door behind him, bracing himself against it. I searched the alley for something to hold the door, and found a metal pole. Taking it, I jammed it into the door handle, securing it as best as I can.

"Run, Janet," Ron yelled, grabbing my arm and shoving me toward the alley entrance.

"Why are you helping me?" I demanded, turning back to look at him.

He hesitated, and a look of fear crossed his expression. Finally, he said, "Because a woman like you shouldn't be in the hands of a madman like the Joker." I blinked in surprise, and he growled with irritation. "_Go_, Janet," he ordered. "Take my car." He reached into his pockets and pulled out a ring of keys, which he threw at me.

I snatched them out of the air and then opened my mouth to protest.

"Don't worry about me," Ron insisted. "Just _go_! Before he catches up!"

I nodded, turned and ran. As I ran, I pressed the unlock button and nearly jumped out of my skin when a Taurus beeped loudly across the street.

I jumped into the driver's seat, shoving the keys into the ignition. The car jerked forward as I stepped on the gas, pulling away from the curb quickly. I didn't flick on the lights, knowing that that would alert the Joker as to which car I was taking. I still didn't turn them on when I was a few roads away from the nightclub.

I was driving alone in the dark, despite the few operational streetlights dotting both sides of the roads.

At sixty miles per hour, I sped down the empty streets of Gotham City, constantly looking into my rearview mirror, waiting for a car in pursuit. If it was a police car that chased me for speeding, I would gladly pull over and take the fine for speeding and driving without my license. At least the Joker wouldn't dare approaching me for a few minutes while the cops dealt with me – or he would just shoot them.

With that thought, I applied pressure to the gas, but then forced myself to take it off as I neared an intersection.

I realized how tightly I was gripping the steering wheel. I only noticed because I looked down as I was passing a streetlight, and the dim light revealed how white my knuckles were. Realizing this made me conscious of how much they were starting to hurt. It was no surprise with how highstrung my reflexes were, my body circulating adrenaline throughout.

I took a deep breath and forced my grip to relax as I crossed the intersection.

I was halfway across the intersection when the truck hit me.

* * *

**Lordlink13: Oh, snap! Shadow's on the run, and she gets hit. Evil cliffhanger, right there. I'm terrible, aren't I? Tormenting all my dear readers into seeing if they will continue to read the story, _just_ to know if Shadow's going to survive. What will happen next? I don't know because I just _do_ things...at least _this_ time around, I'm trying for a little more planning to see where the heck this story is going. Joker wouldn't be happy with me if he finds out, so let's keep it a secret, alright? And don't leave without reviewing!**


	7. Recruiting

The truck plowed into the Taurus's right side. My head jerked to the side and hit my side window with a force that nearly knocked me out. The glass splinted into a pattern of fine cracks before scattering, spilling in and out of the car.

On impulse, my hands turned the steering wheel to the left, sharply, throwing me over toward the passenger's seat.

The Taurus spun in a half circle, counterclockwise, the backend running up on the curb. It slammed into a lamppost, bending it violently before coming to a sudden halt. I was flung back toward my door, but I cushioned my flight with my left arm, bruising it with the hit.

It took me several moments to register that it was over. My body started to tremble with the overload of adrenaline surging through my system. I glanced at the passenger's side to see its window's broken glass scattered about the floor and seat. The backseat looked almost identical to the front.

The windshield had many cracks coming from the right side, stretching across to the left. Through the cracks, I could see that the hood had popped up, crumbled on the right side.

I tried my door handle, but the door refused to budge. I heaved a sigh before turning in my seat, pulling the handle as I kicked as hard as I could. The door flew open, and I let it go, keeping my foot up a second longer to make sure the door didn't swing back to hit me as I climbed out.

I stepped out, stumbling like I was drunk. I fell to the ground but caught myself with my hands and pushed myself back up, taking a few more steps forward to regain balance. Then, I looked up at the night sky as I shook.

A creaking sound alerted me, and I turned around. The streetlight I had hit was bending, creaking under its own weight. It was leaning too far out of its base. I simply watched as it fell over, smashing into the Taurus, throwing sparks in every direction as the car's roof caved in.

Shaking my head in surrender, I just lifted my arms and dropped them in defeat.

"Oh, good, you sur-_viv_-ed!"

"No thanks to you," I snarled, spinning.

The Joker was grinning widely as he sauntered away from his stolen truck, skipping toward me and the totaled Taurus. "I _love_ fireworks!"

"Why don't you go make some _bigger_ ones and leave me alone?" I growled furiously, my anger getting the better of me.

The Joker halted, his smile faltering. Then, he started laughing. "Can't-ah you _see_, Tiger?" he asked, throwing out his arms to the sides. "Gotham's fireworks _would_ be bigger if you stayed with, ah, with me."

I glared at him. "That's suggestive," I deadpanned as I turned away.

The Joker shrugged carelessly. "Think what-ah you _want_. You'll understand _later_ that I just-ah can't _sim_-ply let you _go_."

I decided not to push him since he wasn't going to tell me now. "You wrecked the car," I told him, impassively.

"Just a, ah, a _little_ scratch, Tiger," the Joker replied, gleefully.

"A _little scratch_?" I repeated, violently turning on him. "I was _borrowing_ that car!"

"Borrowing without _per_-mission or _steal_-ing?" he asked, giving me a critical sidelook.

"Someone was _nice_ enough to let me borrow it." I turned away, but the Joker grabbed my wrist. Instantly, I spun, smashing my fist into his face. He laughed the pain off, tightening his grip on me. "Get your hands _off_ me, Joker!"

"The name's 'Mister J', Tiger."

"Let go, bastard!"

The Joker whistled, raising his dark eyebrows with amusement. "Such _language_," he chuckled. "Where'd you learn that-ah?"

"I've lived a criminal life," I snarled. "Foul language isn't the _only_ thing I know."

He smirked, amused. "En-_light_-en me, Tiger," he said, his voice menacingly curious.

"Like all _normal_ criminals, I know the laws that I break."

"What-ah do you _mean_, _'normal'_?"

I narrowed my eyes, and a smile played at the corners of my mouth. "Normal, I believe, are the criminals who are not in-_sane_." I spat the last word at him.

The Joker's eyes narrowed as rage flashed in his expression. He grabbed me roughly, clicking open his switchblade and pressing it against my jawline, applying enough pressure to make me bleed. "Wanna know what-ah I believe, Tiger?" he growled in a low tone. "I believe…that whatever doesn't _kill_ you _sim_-ply makes you…_stranger_."

I froze, trying to hide my fear as the Joker's switchblade bit painfully into my skin. My eyes never left his, waiting for him to hurt me more. His expression didn't soften as he continued to glare at me. Even with my attention on him, I could hear a speeding car in the distance, one that turned onto our road.

Suddenly, a sharp light moved across my eyes, and I blinked, momentarily blinded. I tried turning my head to look, but the Joker held my chin firmly, his switchblade turning slightly to cut me a little more, causing me to wince. Fear pumped through me as the speeding car moved closer until I could distinguish that it was heading straight for us. Then, I heard the squeal of the brakes as the driver slammed his foot on them.

The protesting brakes caught the Joker's attention, and he turned his head. His grip on my face softened, and I was able to see a silver car squealing to a halt about half a foot from where we were standing, the Joker and I. As the vehicle kicked back, the smell of burning rubber flooded over me.

In a sudden burst of renewed anger, the Joker removed his grip on me, yelling at the driver as he walked around me and the front of the car.

I swayed on my feet, placing both hands on the car's hood to keep myself from falling over. As I hunched over the car, I felt something wet dripping from my nose. I wiped my nose on my jacket sleeve, registering the streak of blood. Touching my left temple, I felt the sticky feel of blood running down the side of my face.

Abruptly, the pain descended. I felt the darkness close in, narrowing my vision to a long, dark tunnel with a glinting bull's eye of the car's headlights at the far end. I blinked and took a deep breath to clear my head, leaving me with blackness in the corners of my eyes. My body started shaking as my adrenaline rush crested. To distract myself from the agony, I stared at my blood-streaked hand, but then nausea stirred.

I felt myself straighten, and then my legs gave out from underneath me. "Whoa, Tiger!" A pair of strong arms caught me before I collapsed, catching me under the arms. I closed my eyes, letting a groan escape my lips. At the same time, the Joker swept me up in his arms, cradling me securely to his chest.

Agony thundered in my head. I fell limp in the Joker's arms as he walked around the silver car, opening the backdoor and carefully setting me inside. The sudden movement beside me told me that the Joker must have joined me, particularly when he braced me against him as if to protect my hurting body from the jostling of the car.

I slipped into unconsciousness, only surfacing moments later in time to feel the slight pinch of a needle in my upper arm. I didn't have any time to form a thought before I lost my sense of reality.

Sharp knocking on metal awoke me. I opened my eyes to find my head down on a table's surface. My hands were tugged under the table, and when I moved them, I heard the soft jingle of handcuffs. Confused, I lifted my head, blinking with difficulty from the sandiness in my eyes. The lack of sleep was really getting to me, despite the few short naps here and there.

"Are we, ah, _conscious_? After being _out_-ah for several _days_?"

I blinked against the blinding light, searching for the Joker. I found him standing on the opposite side of the small metal table between us. His gloved hands were pressed flat into the surface as he leaned against it, looming close to me aggressively. I leaned back in my chair to get as far from him as I could without actually getting up and moving – which I was sure he wouldn't like.

"You're one _tough_ girl to, ah, to keep locked up," the Joker remarked, licking his lips slowly.

I looked at him, my eyes hurting in the harsh light. I was tempted to cover my eyes with a hand, but I had the feeling that that's what he wanted me to do. Despite being tired and confused about his remark about me being out for days, I didn't want to let him win this round. _And_ I would look stupid holding my handcuffed hands up to cover my eyes.

"I've had to look out for myself for years," I said simply, my voice cracking from lack of usage. "I know how to handle myself."

"_I'll_ agree with that-ah." Wearily, I raised an eyebrow, and the Joker sat sideways on the table, pulling off a purple, leather glove. He lifted his hand for me to investigate, and the bruises on his hand were quite evident. "Don't-ah re-_mem_-ber?" he asked me, seeing my perplexed expression. "Even un-_con_-scious, you're a, ah, a _rough_ woman."

"You're not the first to discover that," I mumbled.

"What was that-ah, Tiger?"

"Nothing…"

The Joker looked at me from underneath his white brow, and I watched as his tongue slid out over the beginning of a scar. He seemed irritated by my lack of enthusiasm, but it didn't bother me much since I had just woken up, only to react to him with slowed reflexes.

Then, he reached into his jacket pocket, and I couldn't help but flinch, thinking he was pulling out a knife. But he slapped a wallet into his other hand, and it wasn't just _any_ wallet; it was _my_ wallet. Even tired, I could recognize anything that was mine.

An abrupt rush of anger flooded through me. "You little-!" I growled, my handcuffed hands reaching for it.

The Joker grinned as he held my wallet just out of my reach. "_Now_ you'll act a, ah, a little more en-_thus_-ias-_tic_-ally."

"That's mine!" I argued, standing up as I tried to reach for it again. The Joker laughed, raising the wallet over his head and shoving me back into my chair. "Give it back!"

"What-ah do you say?" the Joker chuckled, obviously enjoying this.

I glared at him, my tired body shaking with anger. "Hand it over or I'll rip your head off," I snarled.

"You _dare_ to give me, _me_, a, ah, a _threat_?" The Joker burst out laughing, his laugh echoing in the small room. I narrowed my eyes as he hugged himself from laughing so hard. Then, I outstretched my hands for my wallet, but he abruptly ceased, snapping his gloveless hand on one of my wrists and bending it back.

I whimpered in pain until the Joker released me, pushing me yet again back into my chair. This time, I remained sitting, nursing my wrist, rubbing it roughly and causing my handcuffs to jingle.

"Bastard," I murmured, harshly.

"Calling me names, now?" The Joker reached over the table and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Might want to, ah, to _watch_ it. I might find _some_ names ah-musing, but that doesn't mean I'll, ah, let _all_ of them pass. Next time you call me _some_-thing, you'll find yourself in a sit-_u_-ation you wouldn't-ah like. Not. One. Bit." He licked his lips quickly, and looked hard at me. "Understood?" he asked.

His grip became firm on my chin, and I said, "Understood."

The Joker grinned and lightly smacked my cheek before moving away, sliding off the table and flipping open my wallet. "I've, ah, noticed you have _quite_ a col-_lec_-tion of ID cards in here, sweetheart," the Joker said, pulling some out and placing them on his edge of the table so that he had warning as to when I tried to reach for them.

I only glanced at them, recognizing each of them from the past twelve years, since I had first come into the criminal business.

"Who'd you _work_ for?" the Joker asked curiously, reading one of the IDs.

I shrugged, and he gave me a look from underneath his brow that revealed he wanted more than just a shrug. "I've worked for several top Mobsters in many cities around the country."

"The Mob," the Joker murmured, chuckling to himself as he flicked the ID card he was holding onto the table. He picked another one, his eyes scanning it. "How many years?"

"Why do you care?"

The Joker looked at me, hurt. "I'm just-ah _ask_-ing," he said, innocently.

I heaved an exasperated sigh. I just wished he'd do this later when I wasn't tired. Being tired was equivalent to me not wanting to argue. That, and the fact that he had locked me up for hours without anything substantial. Maybe during the days I was unconscious, someone has taken care of me – I discarded that line of thought. I didn't want to think of the possibilities of what could have happened – but anyway, at the moment, it seemed almost like whatever the Joker asked, he was going to get an honest response.

"Twelve years," I responded.

"Twelve _years_?" he repeated, giving me a wide-eyed look. Through my sandy eyes, he seemed to impersonate a puppy with his wide, coal eyes. "Long time…" he murmured, flicking another ID card on the table.

"I've managed well enough to survive."

The Joker picked another ID card, but stopped, scratching his jaw with it as his eyes looked about the room in thought.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't use my ID cards to scratch an itch," I said.

The Joker flicked the ID card at me, and I flinched as it bounced off my shoulder, making him chuckle softly. He placed my wallet on the table, but kept his hand on it to ensure I couldn't take it. "You know what, ah, I _think_ about-ah you," he began.

I rolled my eyes. "Of _course_ I don't know. I don't have ESP!"

The Joker smirked. "The tiger has a, ah, a sense of humor. I was starting to, ah, to get _worried_." I narrowed my eyes at him, more to protect them from the harsh light rather than glare at him. "I _bet_-ah that you're a woman who isn't _satisfied_ easily, or at least not-ah for _long_."

"So now you're a psychologist?"

"I _do_ happen to, ah, to know psychosis like the back of my hand-ah." The Joker smirked for a moment, and then his grin faded, leaving only his scars to create the Glasgow smile. "You know what _else_ I think about-ah you?" he asked.

I shrugged with the curt response of "no." He scowled – or tried to seem like he was scowling.

Violently, the Joker gripped the side of the metal table and flipped it over and off to the side. One of its legs came up and struck me in the jaw, but I had turned my head, making the hit only a scratch, no major damage, just enough to cause me to bleed along the jaw, right over the cut the Joker's switchblade had given me. I winced as the new cut stung painfully over my already sensitive wound.

As the table clanged loudly on the floor, the Joker straddled on top of me, trapping my hands between my legs. He grabbed my head on either side, stopping me from looking away from his eyes. I felt the cold touch of a blade against my left cheek, and I stiffened, my eyes locking on his.

"You don't-ah _care_ what I have to say about _you_?" the Joker growled, angrily. "I was going to, ah, to give you _many_ compliments, but now, I don't-ah think you _deserve_ them."

"Give me insults then," I said, plainly. "I wonder if you can come up with something I haven't heard of yet. I bet you could do it."

The Joker didn't like how I was trying to lighten the mood. His grip tightened, and I felt him grab a handful of my hair behind my head. "Tiger…you wanna know how I got these scars?" the Joker asked, his tone sinister.

Trapped in my position, with my hands cuffed and the Joker sitting on top of me, there was no way I was going to tell him 'no' this time. But he wasn't waiting for a response; he dived _right_ in.

"Back when I was in, ah, in _high_ school," he said, licking his lips, "I was a, ah, a rather decent kid. Good grades, close friends, almost your average _teen_-ager." His eyes darted to the side and then upwards as he said, "But see, I had _one_ problem. _Money_." His eyes met mine as he continued, his tongue sliding across his lower lip. "See, my father was…a gambler, and a, ah, a drinker…and when you _combine_ the two…he was a _fiend_.

"He'd go off to a nearby casino and gamble and drink away our money. One night, I come home late, and my parents are _arguing_." The Joker looked solemn as he stared deeply into my eyes, as if asking for sympathy. "My father is yelling, de-_mand_-ing where I was. I told him I was studying with a, ah, a friend. 'Studying for school?' he says. 'Son, you shouldn't be _wasting_ your _time_. You should get-ah a _job_. Don't you _real_-ize that we're on the edge of being _poor_.' He had told me this _many_ times before, and I _hate_ being blamed for something _I_ didn't _do_."

The Joker shifted slightly, playing with his mouth for a few seconds. I was mesmerized by how he told it, altering his voice with different accents in the correct places, like the story was true. "I stood up to, ah, to him and told him that _he_ was the reason we were losing money. He didn't like that. Not. One. _Bit_. So, he grabs a kitchen knife. Mommy tries to, ah, to stop him. She's not _strong_ enough, not _strong_ enough to _survive_ his anger." The Joker paused for a moment as he licked his lips, his eyes sorrowful, but the emotion passed quickly. "I try to, ah, to _defend_ myself, but my father, he's _far_ gone. He sticks the blade in my mouth and tells me, 'Son, you're in _way_ over your head. I don't _like_ your _atti_-tude; it's too seri-_ous_. Tell me, son, _why_ so seri-_ous_?"

The Joker jerked his knife toward my mouth, and I closed my eyes in a flinch, expecting him to do it to me. I could hear his accelerated breathing with excitement and possibly the instinct to hurt, to kill. His body tensed against mine, ready to spring, and my heart pounded, pumping fear and adrenaline through my veins.

Then, the Joker's other hand released my hair and caressed my cheek tenderly. I opened my eyes slowly and noticed for the first time that the Joker's eyes weren't black like the mascara around them. They were a gentle brown, orbs that held a swirl of emotions deep inside, like they reflected the inner side of him.

I was distracted by his brown eyes, unable to comprehend what he was doing until he had leaned in and pressed his scarred lips to mine.

The rough tissue against my cheeks tore my attention away from his eyes, and I struggled, jerking my head away. The Joker looked angered by my resistance, but then he laughed a moment later.

"I don't know _what_-ah came _over_ me!" he exclaimed, loudly.

I growled as I struggled, trying to free my head from his tight grip.

"Keep struggling, Tiger, it's doing wonders," he giggled.

I stopped as I remembered exactly _where_ my handcuffed hands were. "You're _sick_," I spat.

The Joker shook as he laughed hysterically for several moments. I tried pushing him off me with my arms, but he still held my head, anchoring himself. The Joker wiped his eyes with his thumb, still giggling. "Oh ho, such a, ah, a _witty_ remark. You make me _laugh_, Tiger." He inhaled sharply, regaining his composure. "I just _might_-ah keep you around."

He grabbed my chin and forced me to look up at him. "And that's why I'd like to, ah, to _recruit_ you, Tiger."

"What?" I shouted, staggered.

The Joker slapped a gloved hand over my mouth, shushing me. "No need to, ah, to _yell_, Tiger. I'm right-ah _here_."

"You can't be _serious_?" I exclaimed as he removed his hand.

"Weren't you, ah, _listening_ to my story?" the Joker demanded, faking an injured tone. "I've learned to, ah, to _smile_ a great deal more and _boy_, does it make life _brighter_! _You_ shouldn't be so seri-_ous_. Lighten up!"

"All this work; kidnapping me, hurting me, chasing me…_just_ to _recruit_ me?" I couldn't believe it. The Joker _had_ to be kidding; he had to be playing some stupid joke.

"Yeah," the Joker said matter-of-factly. "You see, Tiger, I've never worked with a, ah, a _woman_ before. When I first saw you, I just had this…" The Joker gestured with a hand in the air, his face scrunched up, trying to find the correct word. "…this _idea_ popped into my head. Why not take the _aver_-age woman and bring her down to, ah, to _my_ level? Get myself a, ah, a _sidekick_."

"You think I'm an average woman?" I said, raising an eyebrow. I let out a mocking laugh. "Turns out that your plan didn't work out in the end."

The Joker smirked. "I don't _plan_ things, Tiger. I'm not a _schem_-er. I'm a dog chasing cars with only the thought of, ah, of _catching_ it. I don't think ah-_head_; I just-ah '_go with the flow_', as some people would say." He took a strand of my hair and twirled around his finger. "And besides, I _did_ say 'idea', not-ah '_plan'_."

I closed my eyes tightly for a moment, exhaling loudly. A headache was starting behind my eyes, building up gradually. "I'm sorry, Joker, but I'm not interested," I said.

"Oh no, 'Joker' isn't going to, ah, to _cut it_, Tiger. Call me Mister J."

I opened my eyes. "It doesn't _matter_ what your name is! I'm. Not. _Interested_."

"Why not?" the Joker demanded, furiously.

I flinched, feeling scared, but I braced myself. "Because there's a _thing_ about you that I don't think I can _deal_ with." The Joker narrowed his eyes, still livid. "You kill your henchmen if they do something wrong, or even if they question you, or when you just feel like simply _killing_ someone. I'm still young, I have many years ahead of me; I'd prefer to live."

He turned his head slightly, giving me a sidelook. "Is _that_ what-ah you're worried about, Tiger?" I nodded. "Even if you _wanted_ to, ah, to die, you'd have come to, ah, to the _wrong guy_." I blinked in surprise. "I don't want to _kill_ you, Tiger. Every villain, every _dog_ needs a _shadow_."

My breath caught in my throat. I didn't move, my entire body freezing up. Did he know my criminal identity? I didn't have an ID card for my criminal identity – no one would! Or he meant something else by 'shadow'.

"I just-ah re-_mem_-bered," the Joker exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "I don't-ah even know your name."

"Just look on the IDs," I told him, darkly. "Pick out your _favorite_ one."

The Joker chuckled. "I'll _give_ you a name then. How 'bout Sweetheart?"

"No," I growled.

"Princess?"

"No."

"_Dar_-ling?"

"Ab-sol-ute-ly not!" I exclaimed.

"Then _give_ me something, if you don't want-ah me to _pick_ one!" the Joker yelled, though his expression didn't show that he was angry.

"We can stick with 'Tiger'," I told him.

"Fine," the Joker said, gesturing dismissively with his hands. "Listen, Tiger. If you're so, ah, so _worried_ about me _kill_-ing you, let me tell you that I'm not-ah gonna kill you. You're too _amus_-ing. Too. Much. Fun."

"So what about when you get bored?" I asked. It was a good question – from my perspective since I was the topic of the conversation - but the Joker gave me a look like I had said something incredibly _stupid_.

"I don't-ah think I _will_. When I grow bored of _Batman_, I'll let you know, but know this, that I want you as, ah, as my shadow." The Joker climbed off me slowly and went over to the flipped table, setting it on its legs. He retrieved his forgotten glove, slipping it easily on his bruised hand. "And I've decided," he continued, moving toward the table, placing his hands flat on its surface. He leaned forward so that he loomed over me. "That I wouldn't-ah _kill_ you…until I've told you my _name_."

I blinked, my mind slowly registering what he had said. My jaw dropped. "You've _got_ to be kidding!"

"No, sweetheart," the Joker said in a rather charming voice. "I'm not-ah." His grin widened, his lean frame becoming sinister as he pushed back from the table.

Fear crept through me, along with exhaustion, and when someone is tired, they can be either easily frightened or too slow to register fear. I happen to be someone who, when tired, can be easily scared. "Why?" I asked in a barely audible whisper.

The Joker looked so scary, so menacing as he stared at me from underneath his brow with a wide, sinister grin. "So," he began in his low husky voice, sliding his tongue over his bottom lip, "You'll know _exactly_ who killed you…and so you'll have something to, ah, to _scream_." He continued to stare at me for a few more moments, watching my intensifying fear grow on my face.

It scared me even more when the Joker burst out laughing hysterically, his laughter rapidly altering in pitch and volume. He was laughing so hard that he had to step away from me.

The Joker doubled over, his hands on his knees to keep him from falling over. He could hardly breathe without letting out more hysterical laughter. If I wasn't so scared of the Joker at that moment, I would've started laughing at how funny he looked, but I was simply too terrified.

His laughter went on for several moments, but I felt like it wasn't going to stop, like he was going to _die_ laughing.

"Oh," he said between giggles as he struggled to regain control, "Oh, you…just…_kill_ me…" He let out another peal of laughter and then took a deep intake of breath, composing himself. The Joker straightened his jacket as he looked over at me.

"How 'bout I let you _think_ ah-bout it, huh?" the Joker said. "Too much to, ah, to _think_ about and come up with an _ans_-wer _right _ah-way." He waved at me with a wide grin on his face, one that wasn't as menacing as the one he had seconds ago, and he turned to leave the room.

"Wait," I said abruptly. I hadn't expected the Joker to stop and turn back, but he did, cocking his head to the side with curious patience. "I…um, can I have a pack of cards?"

The Joker blinked, confused. "_Odd_-ah re-_quest_ for a woman," he remarked. "Why?"

I forced a small smile on my face, still trying to recover from my fear. "Cards…they're one of my failings. I have to keep my hands busy sometimes, in particular when I'm thinking, _brooding_." Then, feeling a bit more confident, I gave him a sly look. "Unless you _want_ me to busy my hands with _escaping_ again."

The Joker stared at me for a moment before laughing. "As long as you promise not-ah to escape until you've made up your mind." I nodded.

He reached into his pant pocket, pulling out a pack of cards. He tossed it onto the table, and I took it, pulling the cards out. I started shuffling them, watching as I performed cuts and fake cuts. I took a deep breath, trying to suffocate my fear so that I could have a clear head. When I looked up after a few minutes, the Joker was still standing there.

"Do you want a magic trick or something?" I asked, eying him curiously.

"Do _you_?" he asked, eying me back. He lifted his hand and flipped it around a bit. Then, he snapped it out to the side and brought it back with something between his fingers. It was like he was performing a magic trick to make a coin appear out of thin air. From where I was sitting, it looked like a small picture, small enough to be an ID one.

"Wanna _guess_ what-ah it is?" he asked me.

"A picture."

"Of _what _-ah?" His grin appeared, and his eyes lit with amusement.

Was he making fun of me? "Me?"

"Nope," the Joker said, breathlessly. He outstretched it toward me, and I could make out a face, one that I could recognize _anywhere_ if I saw it. Before I could open my mouth in protest, the Joker said, "You see it" – he slid his other hand over it, and it was gone – "Now you _don't_-ah." He giggled excitedly and swept out the door, closing and locking it behind him.

* * *

**Lordlink13: Thank you _so_ much, **Sin**. After Mister J found out about my planning, he took away the laptop for a week. You guys are just lucky that I had written this chapter and last chapter at the same time, or you wouldn't be getting this chapter. I'll steal your cat again, **Sin**, if you don't behave. So, anyway, hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I didn't leave you with _that bad_ of a cliffhanger. Last chapter was just _evil_, but the Joker liked that; only because he had the laptop to read the next chapter when I wasn't home and protecting my flashdrive. So don't forget to leave reviews! I really enjoy reading them.**


	8. Bank Robbery

Even when the Joker had gone, I still sat there, staring at the locked door for several minutes. He had my most prized possession! The picture of my best friend…I _hated_ him.

Furiously, having nothing else to do, I shuffled the pack of cards again in a variety of ways, having a little trouble since my hands were still handcuffed. Overhand shuffle, riffle shuffle, Hindu shuffle, Faro shuffle, strip shuffle…I took deep breaths to calm myself as I performed each shuffle, putting them into combinations and changing them.

Even as I calmed down, fear overcame me.

No one knows when they are going to die, and no one knows how, where, or when. Some people wonder, and they always feel a dread whenever they think about it. For years, since I was trained by my first boss, I had wondered how I was going to die, knowing that I would accept it when it came, but unlike most people, I hadn't hoped to die quietly in my sleep. I had hoped for dying violently and quickly.

Now that I knew the condition to my death, it scared me. I had a sudden overwhelming wish to live, to escape and to live a normal life. But that too scared me. I haven't lived a normal life for twelve years, and I doubted that I'd survive for long. I had made too many enemies in the past twelve years, and at this point, I doubted that the Joker would just _let me go_.

Knowing when I was going to die, I felt myself falling into a deep pit of despair. I couldn't let myself go just yet. There had to be a way to get out alive.

The cards in my hands fell over the table, but I subconsciously started to pick them up, throwing them violently into a riffle shuffle.

I searched the Joker's words for anything else he had told me. One thing returned to me. "_When I grow bored of _Batman_, I'll let you know, but know this, that I want you as, ah, as my _shadow." Everyone needs a shadow, and the Joker wanted me to be his. The Joker's Shadow…I didn't know if I liked the thought or not.

There was one obvious thing that he wanted, and there was a great chance he was going to get it. He wanted me to join his gang. Why else would he want a _shadow_? Someone to watch his back. Someone to do his biding. Someone who was close enough like him, but not really _him_. Someone to stand behind him, wherever he went. Someone for a partner-in-crime?

I placed the deck of cards on the table and put my face in my hands. This was making me depressed. I was only a professional criminal who had come to Gotham, looking for a job under one of the Mob bosses. From what I knew of Mob bosses, the Joker wasn't one of them. He was a different class of criminal, a _better_ class of criminal.

I couldn't wrap my head around it. The Joker would reveal his true name before he killed me, _just_ so I knew what to scream? I couldn't picture the Joker telling _anyone_ his real name, and wouldn't he rather have his victims cry out his current name, the Joker? It didn't make sense. If anything, I thought it was suspicious that there was a probability that the Joker might trust me in the future, enough to tell me his true name.

I rubbed my head idly and then tucked my fists underneath my chin. All these years, and I had thought there was no one who I couldn't outsmart. Apparently, I was going to rue the day I met someone I couldn't beat. So far, I was losing against the Joker. Joker's Shadow, someone _behind_ him, always…

I don't know how long I remained in that room, but I didn't spend the entire time sitting at the table, shuffling the cards. I began weighing my options while playing solitaire. It didn't seem like I had a good chance of escaping again and avoiding the Joker, unless I could get out of the city, but the Joker seemed to know too much about me already.

I don't know how much time had passed by the time I gave up waiting, moving from my chair into a corner of the room, sitting in the shadows, hugging my knees tightly and resting my head on my arms.

The door opening alerted me, and I jerked my head up, expecting to see the Joker. Instead, it was Ryan who peeked in cautiously.

"What do you want?" I asked, and Ryan jumped at the sound of my voice. He turned in my direction, but with me sitting in the shadows, out of the bright light, he couldn't really see me.

"Boss says to come," he said.

"And he thinks he's in _charge_?" I chuckled softly at the horror that crossed Ryan's face. "Relax, Ryan, you don't have much longer." I stood up, still grinning as I climbed to my feet. When he saw my grin, he smiled, but it was forced.

I followed Ryan out of the room and down the hallway. My handcuffs jingled as we headed down the staircase, hitting the ground floor and moving toward the back of the apartment building. We came out into the back alley where the twins and the big guy waited. At the end of the alley was the SUV.

"Ah, I'm _ex_-cited!" the Joker said gleefully, jumping up and down, clapping his hands together. "Tiger's decided to, ah, to _join_ the fun!"

"I didn't decide; _you_ did," I told him as I approached. His grin faltered slightly, and he cocked his head to the side curiously, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Ryan said you called for me."

Anger flashed in the Joker's eyes as he straightened stiffly. His eyes darted over to Ryan, and the poor man cringed in fear. "I _asked_, Ryan, not-ah _called_ for." His eyes still on Ryan, the Joker approached me, pulling out two small keys on a ring. He grabbed my sore wrists and undid the handcuffs.

"So I had a choice?" I asked as the handcuffs fell away. I rubbed my red wrists, wincing.

"You _did_, but I sup-_pose_ since you're already _here_…" The Joker tossed the handcuffs carelessly to the side, and one of the twins caught them. "You could-ah go with these dear fellows, _or_…" He eyed me then. "You could _stay here_ with me."

I narrowed my eyes, and he sighed.

"It's not-ah _hard_ to _read_ you," he grunted. He gestured to the guys moving toward the SUV. "As I was telling _them_," the Joker began, "_I'm_ not-ah _going_."

"Why not?" The words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them, and the Joker grinned.

"Curiosity killed the cat-ah, Tiger," he chuckled, "No par-_tic_-ular reason. I just-ah feel like staying _home_ to-_night_." The Joker put an arm around my shoulders and pointed to the tall guy – the one four inches taller than him. "Bob's in charge, Tiger. You'll do what-ah _he_ says, within _reason_, of course."

The Joker motioned to one of the twins, and the twin hurried over, pulling a clown mask out of his bag. He handed it over, and the Joker snatched it, placing it in my hands.

"Just-ah for the time _being_," the Joker whispered in my ear. "Think of this as, ah, as a _test_."

"Testing my abilities?" I asked quietly as I turned the clown mask over in my hands.

"Doesn't-ah _hurt_ to know my _partner's_ abilities."

I couldn't help but grin as I slipped out of his grasp. Walking backward away from him, I said, "I'm not your partner, Joker, _and_ I don't _care_ if you want to be called 'Mister J'," I added as he opened his mouth. "I'll call you what _I_ want, _Puppy_." I turned and walked toward the guys, seeing their slightly shocked expressions before the Joker caught my arm and spun me around.

He looked livid. His switchblade bit into my cheek as he grabbed my head roughly. I started laughing and shoved the clown mask on his face. Embarrassing him in front of his guys was fun, despite how much trouble I was risking.

The Joker's tongue flickered out over his scarred lips before he looked at me curiously, his anger forgotten for the moment. "How'd you come up, ah, with '_Puppy_'?" he asked quietly, like he was trying to avoid his men overhearing.

Deciding it was best to play along with him, I whispered, "Cause you remind me of one."

The Joker's eyebrow rose, but I could barely see it since it was buried underneath the black mascara around his eyes. Then, he chuckled, his laughter releasing the tension among his men behind me. "Good one, Tiger. All right-ah, I'll meet you back _here_!" The Joker released me and closed his switchblade, about to slip it into his pocket. Then, an expression of thought crossed his face, and he thought better of his action.

He tossed me the switchblade. I barely caught it out of the air, fumbling with it for a moment before grasping it firmly.

The Joker grinned at my little fumbling dance and then said quietly, "Use it when _necessary_, Tiger."

I nodded and then strapped on the clown mask, hiding my shocked expression from him. The others had also put on their masks, and were climbing into the SUV. Before I stepped forward, the Joker called, "Boys, she sits in the _front_!"

Ryan, who was heading for the passenger's seat, groaned and moved aside for me. Hidden behind my mask, I grinned and stepped in before Ryan slammed the door shut. As I buckled myself, I caught sight of silver in the corner of my eye, and I turned my head, seeing a familiar silver car skidding to a stop at the other end of the alley.

I watched as the Joker turned and headed toward it, lifting his arms as he yelled at the driver. With my door closed and with the noise the others were making as they climbed into the SUV, I couldn't hear what the Joker was saying, but the driver of the silver car stepped out, facing the Joker.

The Joker stopped and motioned for the guy to wait before racing back into the apartment, leaving the driver standing there patiently.

Bob took that moment to pull away from the alley mouth, picking up speed as he drove down the road. I heaved a silent sigh of irritation as I rested my head against the seat. The Joker must know the driver of the silver car, especially since I vaguely remember the Joker sitting next to me in the back while we had driven to the apartment. I wished that I had chosen to stay with him…_almost_.

I closed my eyes, facing the window so that none of the guys knew. Denny and Kenny – again, only called "the twins" because their names rhymed – were playing rock-paper-scissors to pass the time, until Bob get irritated and yelled at them to shut up.

"So what's the plan, Bob?" Ryan asked from the back.

"There's five of us, including a guy we have to pick up." I jerked my head, glaring at Bob from behind my mask. He ignored me. "Ryan, you're dealing with the alarm. Twins, your job is the safe and the money. Me and the other guy we need to pick up, we've got the rest of the place. And Ryan, when you're done with the alarm, you'll be joining us."

Ryan grunted an affirmation. I continued to glare at Bob until he sensed my stare.

"And I don't have anything?" I asked in a dangerous tone.

"Figured the boss told you already." Seeing that I hadn't looked away, he growled, "You're watching the alarms. Teams of two." I grunted and returned my head to the seat, closing my eyes again as a headache emerged with slight throbbing.

When the car pulled up to the curb, I opened my eyes as the backdoor opened. I looked into the side mirror, catching sight of a guy climbing over Ryan and Kenny into the trunk. Ryan closed the door, and we were off again.

It didn't take long for us to reach our destination: a bank. Figures.

We climbed out of the car, and as the guy – Mystery Guy, for now, or at least "MG" – stepped out of the trunk, he looked at me. Ryan handed me a small bag, which I shouldered and started after him. However, MG immediately stepped in my way. I glared at him from behind my mask, and he held up a gun. A Glock G21. _My_ Glock G21!

I took it from him, and he walked past me without a word. It didn't matter; I already knew who he was. So much for _not coming_.

Ryan already was on the move so I ran to catch up. He headed in the back way, walking right into the bank. If I hadn't pulled that trick before, I would've killed him.

I followed after him, seeing him over by a panel near the door where he was disabling the backdoor alarm. He had it off within seconds, and we moved on, climbing the stairs to the higher levels.

Ryan tried a door, and before I got there, he had given it a well-placed kick, knocking it open. He headed straight in. I remained out in the hall, checking the ammo of my handgun.

The Joker had lied. He had told all of us that he wasn't going with us, yet he came anyway. It must have been his plan all along. The driver of the silver car must have dropped him off…unless MG was the driver. It was possible, I suppose. The Joker might have remembered that I didn't have a weapon and had sent it with the driver to give it to me. But then, why would the driver get picked up in the SUV if he already had his own car?

"Bozo," I murmured.

Then, I heard a _crack_ and a grunt. Someone dropped to the floor inside the room, and I had the guess that it was Ryan who had been knocked down. I pressed myself hard against the wall until a man in a bowler hat stuck his head out. I smashed my elbow in his face before he saw me.

He cried out, stumbling back into the room, and I ran for it. As I reached the stairs, a gunshot went off, and the bullet zipped past me. I vaulted over the railing and landed hard on the stairs. A flash of memory popped up of me making my first break for it when the Joker chased after me.

I shook my head to clear it and then raced down the stairs, using the railing to swing my momentum. I heard the others thundering down, and I knew there was more than one, at least.

I jumped off the stairs and slammed into a door on one floor, stumbling into a dark hallway. I pressed myself against the wall next to the door, hiding in the shadows, waiting for my pursuers to find me. They were coming fast, but not fast enough.

My heart pounded in my chest and in my ears, and I had difficulty trying to quiet my rapid breathing. Even as I stood there in the shadows, listening as my pursuers' thundering grew in volume, I felt my body chill over. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm either.

Abruptly, my pursuers burst through the door next to me, running in and then coming to a halt. There were three of them, and even in the dim light coming from the closing door, I saw that they were all wearing bowler hats and black suits with white ties. Who were these guys? Dressing fancy for bank robbing?

I understood the Joker's thugs – wearing clown masks to copy the Joker's clownish style, but what criminal mastermind had the same idea as the Joker as to rob the exact bank? Whose thugs were these?

"Where did he go?" one of the guys asked, looking to the other two.

"Go check the rooms, Eagle, Shark," another said, sliding his gloved hand along the wall in search of a light switch. He found one a foot away from me and flicked on the lights. I blinked as my eyes hurt with the sudden brightness, and I felt relief when the man looked down the hallway where his companions where moving toward the doors, opening them and checking the rooms.

The lights ruined my shadowy hiding spot. If one of the guys came out of the room and looked my way, he'd see me. Now was my only chance to get the loner in the hallway before the others returned.

I lunged forward and grabbed the man, wrapping my arms around his neck and cutting off his air. He struggled to break my grasp, but I held on determinedly. The man dropped his gun in the struggle, and it clattered loudly on the floor.

"Hey, Hawk, everything all right?" one of the guys asked. They had heard the gun fall.

I wasn't one to hold another as a meat-shield. I positioned my hands on his face and twisted. The sickening crunch made me flinch badly, but I still held my stance as the lifeless man slumped to the floor.

As the first bowler hat man came out of his room, I fired, blasting him in the chest and knocking him back into the room. I ducked as the last guy ran out, firing at me. I cried out as the bullet clipped me, hitting the skin of my shoulder. I fired back twice, missing him the first time and getting him in the leg the second. Holding my injured shoulder, I got to my feet and ran back to the stairs, leaving the man behind.

I raced down the stairs, adrenaline rushing through me. As I ran, I heard gunshots down below, and I stopped. If there was any better chance to escape from the Joker, now was it.

This reminded me too much of a situation I was in back in middle school. It was during gym, and we were playing capture-the-flag. Most of my team had been captured, including my best friend. I was so close to the flag, and I was speedy so I was confident that I could grab the flag and run all the way back to the base before the other team caught me. I had been torn between running to free my team members and grabbing the flag. My best friend ruined my hiding spot by calling to me and telling me to get the flag. We won in the end, but I had surrendered my best friend to win.

My best friend at this moment was my escape. Robbing the bank and getting the money was the flag. _Damn_…I was a person-pleaser.

I continued running down the stairs, bursting through the door on the first floor and coming out the back of the bank. I was in the employee's section, and through the glass, I could see several men in bowler hats with my own companions – Denny, Kenny, Bob, and the Mystery Guy "Bozo".

Even as I hurried toward the door to enter the main area, Denny was shot down by one of the bowler hat men. Each side was ducking behind desks and tables. Kenny even vaulted over a teller window as he was being fired at. I came out of the back, ducking down behind the teller windows, sliding over to Kenny.

He saw me and nearly shot me dead, but caught sight of my mask.

"How many?" I asked.

"Seven," Kenny replied, "Appeared out of nowhere."

I peeked over the window, but ducked quickly as a blast clipped the desk. "Jeez," I said involuntarily.

"You clowns have no _business_ here!" a man shouted – probably one of the bowler hats.

"We were here first!" another howled. There was a loud blast, and I looked up in time to see Bob and Bozo launched themselves over the teller windows, hitting the ground hard. Bob seemed too stunned to move, but Bozo got to his hands and knees, digging a hand into his pocket and pulling out a grenade.

I held out a hand toward him, and when he saw it, he looked at me confused.

"We've been discovered already," I told him. "Hand it over and we'll make a break for it." He nodded and handed it over. I grabbed the pin, but didn't pull as Bozo grabbed a full duffel bag near Kenny. They must have received some money in the short time we were here.

I immediately pulled the pin and tossed it over the desk before covering my ears. The bowler hat men shrieked at the sight of the grenade, and then it went off.

Pieces of wood and glass fell in all directions. Bob and I climbed to our feet, holding up arms to defend our eyes from the flying debris. On the other hand, Bozo was throwing duffel bags at us, shouldering one also before leading the way out through the front.

We stumbled out of the bank and toward the SUV. Bozo threw open the backdoor and tossed his duffel bag in. Bob threw his at him before running around to the driver's side. I handed over my bag to Bozo, and he threw it in. Roughly, he grabbed my wrist and particularly threw me in with the bags before climbing into the back himself, slamming the door behind him.

We sped away from the bank where it had started to smoke, fire flashing through the glass windows. I looked back, watching the inferno as it blasted through the side. I caught Bozo looking for a moment, as if checking, before he turned back to face the front.

I found myself sweating under the mask, and I ripped it off, enjoying the feel of the cool air. I ran my hands through my hair, pushing it back before turning to face Bozo. Bozo kept his mask on, as did Bob, and it seemed like he was purposely avoiding my gaze.

"Do you want to be dropped off or come back to the boss with us?" Bob asked Bozo.

Bozo shrugged and then leaned forward, whispering something so that only Bob could hear.

"Secrets, secrets," I murmured under my breath as I settled myself into my seat. My heart was racing with the excitement, and the adrenaline rush was still going. It was going to hit me hard later.

Bob dropped Bozo off on a street corner, and he climbed out without taking a duffel bag of money. Bob seemed happy about it, but I wasn't. As Bozo turned to close the door, I threw a bag at him.

"Don't forget _your_ share," I snarled at him. He caught it and looked at me. "Cause apparently, there was only five of us. I. Didn't. _Count_." That got a reaction that I almost missed. His hands clenched tightly in the bottom of the duffel bag he held, and his shoulders stiffened.

But I closed the door as Bob sped off again, leaving Bozo on the street corner.

Bob wasn't planning on going back to the apartment. Not yet, anyway. He pulled up to the curb on an empty street, and that was my first warning. I heard a gun being loaded, and I jumped out of the car as quick as I could, running toward the first alleyway.

Bob's shot clipped my leg, causing me to stumble, but as my hands hit the ground, I pushed off, keeping me going. I ducked into an alleyway and crouched behind a dumpster, checking my semi-automatic.

I could sense Bob's anger at the mouth of the alley, and I had a guess as to _why_ he was mad, and exactly _who_ he was mad at.

"Upset that I gave the guy his share?" I asked loudly.

Bob answered with a gunshot that hit a trashcan, the sound ricocheting off the brick walls.

Too anger to talk, that's the kind of guy Bob was. I risked a peek around my dumpster to see him panting heavily, furiously at the mouth. He wasn't coming in even though he had me trapped. I didn't have anywhere to run; why wasn't he coming in for me?

Then, Bob fired at the dumpster once, and I flinched back, but when I gained enough courage to look, he wasn't standing in the alleyway.

I didn't let my guard down, and it was probably the only reason why I had survived. Even as I slowly stood up, Bob jumped around the dumpster, attacking me.

He pushed me against the wall, an arm pressing against my throat and cutting off my air. Sharp pain erupted in my skull as his gun slammed down on my head, and red and black flashed in my eyes. My hand dropped into my pocket, pulling out the Joker's switchblade. With a _click_, it snapped open, and I jabbed it in Bob's gut.

Bob grunted loudly as he jerked back, doubling over in pain. I gasped for breath greedily, savoring the taste of oxygen. Bob was recovering quickly, but I was faster, stepping forward and kicking him in the side.

He stumbled and then shot up, cracking me in the jaw. As my head snapped back, I threw my hands behind me, stopping myself before I cracked my head on the brick wall. Bob came after me, but I slid down the wall, throwing my leg up, striking him under the chin.

As adrenaline rushed through me, I hit the ground and scrambled out of the way. Bob stomped on my back, and I struck the ground hard. Pain thundered in my head as Bob grabbed me by my jacket, lifting me to my feet.

My feet touched the floor, and I spun, my hand snapping on Bob's wrist. The throbbing pain in my head distracted me as my vision turned red for a second, and Bob had time to punch me hard with his free hand.

I stumbled back, colliding with the wall and then falling to the side. I couldn't catch myself; I hit the ground and cried out in pain.

Bob lunged forward, straddling me and grabbing me by the throat, holding me down to the ground, squeezing. I gasped as my windpipe was constricted, and I clawed desperately at Bob's hand, trying to make him let go. Then, my eyes caught sight of something flashing as Bob raised his other arm, and I recognized it as a dagger. It lifted into the air, hovering, and then started to fall.

Time slowed as my panic arose in my throat. Death faced me, and I couldn't do anything to protect myself, to survive. The dagger was dropping closer and closer…it was going to hit me hard, not in the heart but close enough to give me a few seconds pain before killing me…

As the dagger neared my chest, something awoke within me, a burning desire to live. Pain rippled through me, ripping a scream from my lips, and I felt distant, all my senses dulled to everything but that intense agony.

The descent of the dagger faltered, coming to an abrupt halt, but I couldn't stop the scream. Waves of agony pulsed throughout my body, erupting from my head. I shut my eyes, trying to block out the pain, but it only grew. As distant as I was, I could still feel Bob's weight on me, and I was vaguely aware of that weight lifting unexpectedly.

My back arched in agony, and I convulsed, my body jerking. Flashes of memories burst through under my closed eyelids. My mouth sealed shut, my throat straining with the screams that wanted escape.

Just like that, it was over, and I remained still, lying on the ground, breathing heavily. Only remnants of the pain remained, but even those were distant. I didn't understand what had happened. I had faced death many times before, and this had never happened.

Then, I heard a cry of pain, and I opened my eyes. A soft gasp escaped my lips. My eyes had sharpened somehow, seeing things in unique detail but through a purple haze. I blinked, and the haze remained, even after I waved my hand in front of my eyes.

Another grunt alerted me, and I turned my head seeing Bob on the ground, whimpering in agony. A man in a purple suit was hovering over him, and it took me a few moments to recognize who it was.

The Joker shifted his weight as he pulled out a knife, a small one. His eyes were transfixed on Bob, who was trying to climb to his feet. The Joker kicked his hands out from underneath him, making him fall to the ground. Bob whined, and I could see blood dripping from his face.

The Joker crouched down and mercilessly grabbed a handful of Bob's hair, yanking his head back so that he met his eyes.

"Keep your hands _off_ the merchandize," the Joker growled, "You under-_stand_ me, _Bob_?"

Bob murmured something inaudibly.

"What-ah was that?" the Joker pressed, twisting his handful of hair.

Bob inhaled sharply before saying, "Yes, boss."

The Joker cracked him in the jaw, still holding Bob's hair. "_Next_ time, leave the lady ah-_lone_," he growled. "Got it-ah?" Bob nodded slightly, wincing as the little nod causing him pain with the Joker still holding his hair. The Joker jerked the man's head down against the ground hard – probably knocking him unconscious or, at least, delirious – and straightened.

He looked over at me before turning and sauntering toward me. His warpaint had smudged because of the sweat from the bank robbery, but he still looked menacing, especially when he was angry.

"You all right?" he asked, his tone soft, but still holding the rage.

"Fine," I murmured, my throat burning from screaming.

A small smile made its way on his scarred lips. "Sounded like you were, ah, were being _murdered_."

"_No_," I said, sarcastically. "I was just _practicing_ my screams for when you decided to _kill_ me."

The Joker laughed as he grabbed my wrists, pulling me to my feet. "Oh, Tiger, you _amuse_ me," he chuckled.

Anger flared inside me, and I felt the throbbing in my head. My hands clenched, I shoved him away from me, angrily. The Joker stumbled back, his laughter cutting off, and he glared at me.

"For your _information_, Joker, my name's not 'Tiger'," I growled, glaring back at him. "It's _Shadow_." Then, I turned on my heel and walked away…

And the agony from before shot right back at me.

* * *

**Lordlink13: To satisfy **Sinario**, the Joker didn't kill the driver of the silver car. He's in this chapter, but you don't know who he is, not yet anyway. And to **Confusing Cat**, I'm sorry, but I'd suggest not bothering with hoping for me to upload sooner than my once a week. It's hard enough for me to finish a chapter for a week. Particularly when I hit writer's block with particular parts (aka the end of this chapter where I had an idea and totally killed it with Bob not bringing Shadow back to the apartment as ordered.) See, **Sin**, I'm not planning, just coming up with ideas and going with it, though some are very difficult. It should get easier later though...hopefully. So yeah, hope you all enjoyed this chapter and wish you all a "Happy Easter". Don't forget to review.**

**Joker: Hey, **Sin**, do you _honestly_ think your best-ah _friend_ can take me on? I'd really like to, ah, to _see_ that-ah.  
**


	9. Hysteria

I dropped to my knees, grasping at my head. Pain thundered through me, pulsing from my head, and I felt my throat burning as I struggled to hold back a scream. Around me, the alley tipped and swerved, and I felt myself fall, hitting the ground on my side. Someone called out, but I couldn't focus.

My eyes were burning, and the purple haze filled my vision, so all I saw was purple. Someone grabbed my wrists, trying to pull my hands away from my head, but I lost it, screaming at him and punching them away.

A weight dropped on me, and my head jerked back, smashing against the ground. Tears burst into my eyes, and my vision cleared so that I saw the Joker hovering over me.

Fear shot through me, and I opened my mouth to scream.

The Joker instantly slapped his hand over my lips, muffling my attempt of a cry. "Sh-sh-sh, Shadow," he said, his voice quiet. His eyes were wide as he watched me, and I thought I saw concern in the brown depths.

The Joker lifted his head, looking around and over his head like he was expecting someone to drop out of nowhere on top of him. The way he jumped convinced me that he had heard something he didn't want to hear.

Quickly, he slipped his arms under me, and he lifted me, cradling me against his chest. Then, with a nervous look overhead, the Joker raced for the SUV. My backdoor was still open so he tried placing me inside, but he was too tense, nearly tossing me inside.

I sat up as he jumped into the driver's seat, quickly pulling away from the curb. We didn't go every far before something smashed down on the front of the SUV, smashing the windshield. I lifted my arms in time to protect my face from the flying glass.

The Joker started laughing, but was cut off violently. I peeked to see his door open, and someone dragged him out of the car. My hand flew to my door handle, jerking it open, and I fell out, rolling on the ground as the SUV continued driving away down the street.

The Joker fell to the ground, struggling to laugh as a man in black attacked him. It was difficult for me to see, but as the man in black hovered over the Joker, I realized that I was looking at the Guardian of Gotham, the Dark Knight, Batman.

"Long time no see, Batman," the Joker giggled as he turned onto his back, crawling backwards. "Didn't-ah think you'd show _up_!"

"Enough, Joker," Batman said, his voice deep. "You're going back to Arkham."

"Ah, my second _home_, it'd be _nice_ to, ah, to _visit_…if I _wanted_ to." The Joker turned and pushed himself off the ground in a scramble to get away, but Batman lunged forward and grabbed him by his jacket, yanking him back. "Give a, ah, a guy a head-_start_," the Joker said, grudgingly.

"This isn't a game of tag, Joker," Batman growled as he turned the Joker around to face him.

"I was _pretty_ sure it-ah _was_." The Joker swung wildly at Batman, but the Dark Knight caught his fist. "So _tough_, aren't-ah ya?" The Joker stopped and licked his lips quickly as he stood before Batman, his feet barely touching the ground. "Caught me when I wasn't _doing_ _any_-thing."

"I heard the screams, Joker. I assumed it was you."

The Joker's eyes narrowed slightly. "_I_ don't-ah go around _screaming_ for the _fun_ of it."

"Your victim then," Batman said, jerking his head in my direction.

The Joker's eyes flickered over to me and held my gaze for a few seconds before returning to the Batman. He grinned as he shrugged, lifting his hands up carelessly.

I watched this exchange with curiosity. The Joker and his archrival, the Dark Knight. Batman was bent on capturing the Joker and putting him behind bars. The Joker could careless. If I was in the Joker's place, I would be struggling to be free; I wouldn't go down without a fight.

As I watched the exchange, a thought struck me. Why was I standing here like an idiot? The Joker was caught; he was going to be taken off the streets, and I would be able to escape. I'd be long gone from Gotham before he managed to escape his prison. I was given a second opportunity in one night; luck must be on my side.

Excitement rippled through me, but a wave of pain followed. I gritted my teeth, clenching my hands tightly against it, but it still hurt. What was the _matter_ with me? This couldn't be natural; it _wasn't_ natural.

A chill ran through me, and the pain was gone. I blinked, sensing that something was different. The purple haze was back, and even from where I stood, I could see the Joker's expression, the creases in his face, his scarred lips so clearly.

"_Tell me, Sara, if you had a special ability, what would it be?"_

I cocked my head to the side, feeling a twinge in my neck.

"_C'mon, something that fits your personality."_

"_I can't think of anything, other than wanting to disappear."_

"_You're not _that_ anti-social."_

"_Maybe I am."_

"_No…what I think is that you're like a shadow. You're there, but no one notices you. If you were standing in shadows, you'd disappear, but if you were out in the open, you'd be there but no one sees. You're quiet, not shy. Shy kids are there and people see them, but you…you are there but aren't seen. You have that ability without powers. Wouldn't it be cool to have such a power?"_

It would indeed…

Understanding dawned on me, even though it made little sense. I must have had this ability since I was little; the only person who had noticed me was my best friend from middle school. He had explained it all without realizing it.

The pain and the headaches were part of it. My senses had sharpened, my vision had a purple haze which allowed me to see much better than usual. An abrupt curiosity came over me. What exactly was the extent of my ability?

I blinked again and saw that the Joker was staring at me, his eyes unwavering. What did he know? Maybe he thought I was going to take this chance to run. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't.

I flexed my hand, feeling a strange lightness, like gravity wasn't as strong. A grin made its way on my lips as I turned and walked away from the Joker and Batman.

I don't know how I did it, but one moment I was walking _away_, and the next moment, I was running _towards_ them.

I jumped into the air and landed on Batman's back. He grunted under the extra weight and released the Joker who took several steps back before I knocked Batman to the ground. I climbed off the Dark Knight, and the Joker grabbed my wrist, yanking me after him. I kept pace with him.

I sensed something flying toward us, and I pushed the Joker aside, knocking him down on the curb. An object flew over our heads, striking the building near us.

"Shadow us away, Tiger," the Joker giggled. I stared at him in surprise and confusion. Was _that_ what this was called? I grabbed his hand, clenching it tightly and then thought of the Joker's apartment.

I blinked, and we were there, particularly on the floor of my last imprisonment.

The Joker burst out laughing as I sat up, looking around with a mixture of fear and confusion. I had transported us back to the Joker's place. How could I have this ability…this _power_? It scared me.

"What an _amazing_ thing!" the Joker exclaimed, a smile appearing on his scarred lips as he sat up next to me. "A clearheaded woman with, ah, special _talents_."

"No," I blurted out, suddenly. I scrambled away from him, my eyes wide with terror. "I can't…"

"Of course you _can_. You just-ah _did_!" the Joker said.

"No, Joker. I'll be part of your gang, but not to be _used_."

The Joker cocked his head to the side. "I didn't _say_ you'd be _used_, _dar_-ling."

"The pet names suggest that."

The Joker heaved a sigh and slowly climbed to his feet. He looked at me, a sorrowful look on his face before turning and walking out of the room.

I jumped up and ran to the door, only to find it locked. No, this couldn't be _happening_!

"Let me out!" I shouted, pounding hard on the door. I didn't get a response from the outside.

I turned my back and leaned against the door, sliding down its length to sit on the floor. Exhaustion and fear swept over me. I curled my knees into my chest, hugging them tightly as tears stung my eyes. I didn't fight them, I simply let them go.

Four or five nights with the Joker…and I was breaking down. It wasn't really something _he_ was doing; it was me. Too much stress, not sleeping or _eating_, for that matter. But I wasn't hungry. Something was wrong with me, something that I didn't want to face. Maybe I was losing my mind.

It didn't matter that I was working for the Joker, and I had robbed a bank for him, only to lose all the money. It didn't matter that I hated myself for being here in Gotham City. It didn't matter that we had crossed paths with the Dark Knight. It just _didn't_ matter.

I felt so depressed and lonely. Tired and shaky. I was losing my mind. I felt so small in a big, cruel world. My emotions were out of control, I was breaking down at the worst times.

I looked about the room, but felt afraid, scared that there was something in the shadows. It didn't matter that I might have a special ability; I didn't want to be here.

There was a soft knock on the door, but I didn't move. The doorknob moved, and someone pushed against it, but with me sitting in front of it, the door didn't budge. They didn't try again; I heard their footsteps move away from the door.

When I didn't hear them anymore, I rested my head on my knees and sobbed.

* * *

Hunter sharpened a knife, muttering to himself about nothing. He couldn't get the idea that the Boss wanted that woman around. Offering her a job as part of his gang…what was the Boss _thinking_? Surely he must know that there was something about the woman that would destroy him?

Hunter didn't like the woman. It was all too obvious. The Boss was attracted to her, and Hunter didn't like it. He didn't want the Boss losing his grip. He feared that if the Boss did lose it, the police would get him and Hunter, and separate them.

Hunter shivered with the thought. It wasn't a pleasant thought.

He placed the knife on his nightstand and stood up. Surely the Boss was back by now? Hunter left his room, locking it behind him, and heading down the hall. He checked out a window into the back alley, but all he saw was the silver Volvo. The Boss's SUV wasn't there so he wasn't back.

His heart pounded in his chest with worry. Did the Boss get caught while robbing the bank? He couldn't have; he was too _smart_ to get caught.

Hunter hurried toward the stairs, and started down, but stopped a level down from his room, catching sight of the Boss, standing outside the imprisonment room of the woman.

Curiosity peaked inside Hunter, but he didn't dare move. He just watched the Boss.

The Boss wasn't moving. He stood there, outside the woman's room, his head down, his eyes on the doorknob. He was so still…

Hunter took a step down, but halted as the Boss raised a hand toward the doorknob. The Boss stopped his hand, holding it in the air for a few seconds before moving it toward the door, placing it flat against the surface. The expression on the Boss's face scared Hunter even more.

Hunter knew how to read people's expressions, and with the tab he had on the Boss's thoughts, it was all too _obvious_ of what the Boss was feeling.

_Concern…nervous…scared…_

What was _wrong_ with the Boss?

As if sensing his eyes, the Boss looked up and over at Hunter. A stab of fear shot through Hunter as the Boss's expression hardened. Fluently and quickly, the Boss reached into his pocket, grabbed a knife, and chucked it at Hunter.

Hunter ducked just in the nick of time. He only glanced at the Boss's furious expression before running back to his room to hide.

* * *

The tears ceased to flow, and I was left with a sense of emptiness. My depression still remained, leaving me with nothing but sour thoughts. My chest ached, breathing was painful, but I didn't release my knees, crushing them against me. When the next knock came to the door, I gave up and moved over, sitting next to the door rather than in front of it.

The door swept up, and the Joker bounded in, kicking the door closed. He seemed confused for a few moments as he didn't see me at first, but then, he noticed me sitting by the door.

"Why so down?" he asked, crouching in front of me.

"Lots of reasons," I murmured, burying my face in my arms. I felt the Joker's hands as he slipped them between my head and my arms, and he forced me to look at him.

"Smile, Shadow. It's makes things _brighter_," he said, cheerfully.

"Go away," I told him, jerking my head from his grasp.

He looked angered for a moment, but then grabbed my head again, stroking my cheek with his thumb. "C'mon, girl, what's the _matter_?

"You, me, the world," I told him.

"I'd agree with the _last_-ah part."

"Are you _sure_ you want to work with me?" I asked him, looking him in the eyes. "Women have more mood swings than men, though you could be the exception."

The Joker grinned. "Maybe so. I'd still like having you _around_." He shifted his position and then said, "You and I are _very_ alike, Shadow. We've had _difficult_ pasts. Have a, ah, a _thing_ for cards. We hold _se_-crets. The _dif_-ference is you hold yourself _back_."

"Like what I did, bringing us back here," I whispered, painfully.

"Sure, but that's not all. You _hide_ your thoughts. If I didn't-ah _know_ any better, I'd say that you _had_ someone you could trust with _any_-thing."

I looked away, but the Joker forced me to look at him again.

"I know what-ah it's _like_, Shadow. _Trust_ me."

"Don't make me laugh," I deadpanned. "No one in their right _mind_ would trust a man like you."

"You trust me to, ah, to _hold_ to my promise of when I'd _kill_ you." I shut my mouth. "Look, I'll tell you what-ah. I'll give you another _chance_ to leave. Think it-ah over. Tell me what you've decided later."

"I've already decided, and I plan to stick with it," I told him.

The Joker cocked his head, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Des-_pite_ what-ah happened to-_night_?" he asked.

"Despite that." I slipped my hand into my pocket and pulled out his switchblade. "You can have it back now."

He took it from me and pocketed it. Then, he grabbed my hands and straightened, pulling me with him. "C'mon, Shadow, you're looking tired," he said with a cheerful grin. He pulled me toward the door, but I pulled back, edging myself near the corner of the room.

The Joker stopped and looked at me, confused.

"I'll stay here," I said, guessing his line of thought.

"Oh, no-no-no-_no_, that won't-ah _do_, Shadow. _Bob_ will be on his way _back_, and I don't-ah want him knowing _exactly_ where you are."

"Why are you protecting me from him?" I asked.

The Joker shrugged. "Maybe because I like you."

I raised an eyebrow and turned my head slightly, causing him to laugh.

"You're al-_ready_ picking up on my _mannerisms_."

I grunted, and the Joker jerked hard on my hand. He did it to the side so that I spun into his chest where he wrapped an arm around my waist and brushed my hair back with other hand. His fingers brushed over my head wound from the car crash, and I winced.

"How's your head?" the Joker asked, noticing the wince.

"Fine," I said, struggling to free myself from his grip.

"Hey, hey." The Joker grabbed my head with both hands, holding me still so he could see.

"I'm fine!" I protested, jerking my head out of his grasp. Unfortunately for me, I didn't realize how close we were standing to the wall. I cried out in agony as I hit my sore skull, whimpering and pressing my hands to it.

"Did that-ah _hurt_?" If I wasn't in so much pain, I would've hit him. "See? If you had, ah, let me _look_ at it…" The Joker removed my hands and took a quick look at it. Then, he started rubbing it hard. I whimpered but didn't fight him since it eased the pain faster.

"There, how's that?" he asked, still rubbing.

"Better…"

The Joker stopped rubbing and took my chin gently, tilting it up so that our eyes met. "You look _really_ tired, Shadow."

"Do I?" I asked, lowering my eyebrows.

"Yeah." He slid a finger underneath my right eye, over the bridge of my nose, and under my left eye. "Dark circles," the Joker said softly as his finger went around my left eye and moved back toward the right, sliding just under my eyebrows.

I can't say that I didn't like what he was doing. It wasn't like _he_ was touching me, just his gloves, but it still caused shivers to run down my spine. I couldn't have him doing whatever he thought he had a right to do.

Abruptly, the Joker pulled on my arm, racing for the door which he flung open. I stumbled, trying to keep pace with him.

The Joker stopped and announced, "We're here!" as he pushed open the door.

I looked in with baffled wonder. It was a rather nice room with the colors green, purple, and black. The walls were purple while the carpet was green. A king-sized bed stuck out from the wall, out into the middle of the room. The covers were black and purple, all made up and neat, tucked at the corners. The ceiling fan was running, circulating the room with fresh air from the two open windows. It was illuminated by the predawn light filtering in the windows. There were even two other doors which I figured connected to a closest and a bathroom.

"So…what'd you think?" the Joker asked, sounding impatient.

"You were right."

The Joker looked at me, curiously. "'Bout what?" he asked.

"About saving me," I replied. The Joker arched an eyebrow, and I explained, "The night you took me from my motel room. You said that you were saving me, and now I realize why."

His grin almost seemed a natural one…_almost_. "Why, _thank_-you, _Beautiful_. I ap-_pre_-ciate it when people acknowledge my keeping my word. After all," he said with a giggle, "I'm a man of my _word_." The Joker placed his hand in the middle of my back, and he gave me a push, forcing me into the room.

I stumbled forward and turned as the Joker locked the door behind him. "What the heck?" I asked, confused. Then, as he grinned back at me, I became furious, catching onto what he was thinking. "There's no way! You're not staying in here!"

"I'll stay here if I _want_ to, Shadow," the Joker argued, his brow frowning.

"You're taking the floor then," I said, more as a statement rather than a question.

"No, I'll be, ah, _joining_ you."

"Then, _I'll_ take the freakin' floor!" I yelled, furiously.

The Joker grabbed my arm roughly and yanked me over to the door, slamming me against it so that the doorknob poked into my lower back painfully. "I've told you al-_ready_ that I always get what I want, Shadow."

"And what _is_ it that you want right now? To take advantage of me or to simply _sleep_ with me?" I demanded. "To me, both those things mean the same thing!"

"Shadow, you have a, ah, a _terrible_ ability at guessing. What I _want_…is for you to sleep on the _bed_, to be comfortable, and to not es-_cape_." The Joker licked his lips and then continued. "I don't _trust_ my guys to, ah, to watch you just yet, so _I'm_ gonna do it."

I glared at him, meeting his eyes. He returned the glare, but then, his eyes softened slightly. His searched mine for something, some emotion I think, and at the same time, I realized that my glare had slipped into a simple, curious stare.

We stood there for several moments, staring into each other's eyes. The Joker continued to stare into my eyes, his flashing with stirring emotions that I couldn't recognize. I shivered as a sudden coldness flooded through me, despite the heat in the room. It made me conscious of the Joker's hand hovering just below my chin and how close his face was to mine.

Then, the Joker suddenly stepped back, almost bouncing. "You look tired," he stated, flashing me a comical smile.

"I'm not sleeping with you," I stated, flatly, my face calm.

The Joker shrugged and then suddenly swept me up in his arms, cradling me like a child. I squeaked involuntarily, causing him to giggle. He brought me to one side of the bed, dropping me ungracefully, laughing.

I bounced on it, making it creak slightly in protest, and I let out another involuntary squeak of surprise. Then, a cry escaped my lips as the Joker suddenly climbed on me, straddling me easily. "What the heck?" I cried.

"You don't-ah swear, do ya?" the Joker asked, giving me a curious look. I tried shoving him off me, but he was fast, snatching my wrists and pushing them down on the bed on either side of my head. "C'mon, Shadow, I asked you a, ah, a _ques_-tion."

I sniffed irritably, reluctant to respond, but I had the sense to answer him. "I don't see a point in swearing where people could be creative and come up with different things to say that will only cause them to start laughing at what they just said and forget about how angry they were."

The Joker started laughing. "And I thought you were a, ah, a very _serious_ woman. Boy, wasn't I wrong?" His laughter coursed through his entire body, and I could feel it, with him sitting on me. "How 'bout giving me an example, Shadow?"

"No, you'll hear me one of these days say something else, if I'm still alive then."

"Oh, you're so _negative_, Shadow," the Joker complained, sounding like a whining kid. "Look on the bright side of life! It's not all depressing!"

"So your bright side of life is killing people," I stated, raising an eyebrow. "That's death right there. How is that the bright side?"

The Joker tapped the side of my head with a finger. "C'mon, use your head, Shadow. You seem like a, ah, a person who thinks a great deal." His eyes wandered upwards as he thought for a moment before speaking. "Think of it as me _sparing_ people. People are _nat _-urally nega-tive so they think of death as a dreadful thing. They're going around, thinking of all the negative things happening and just don't sit back and watch it. Nobody focuses on the _positive_ things."

"And you do?" I asked.

The Joker pressed a gloved finger over my lips, silencing me. "Rest your mouth and use your ears for a few, ah, _moments_, Shadow. As I was saying before you _rudely_ interrupted me, uh, the bright side is the fact that I'm _sparing_ people from a negative, miserable life. Only the positive people should be left alone."

I fought to speak behind the Joker's finger. "Wut bout fose wike Whaman?"

The Joker giggled as he removed his finger. "Sorry, I don't speak that, ah, language. What did you say?" he asked, laughing with amusement.

"What about those like Batman?" I asked again. "Like the police. The ones who want to put you and the other criminals in jail or an asylum? Are they negative people?"

"Bringing up Batman this _early_?" the Joker said, throwing a cautious look about the room like he was afraid that the vigilante might be hidden in the room. The Joker stroked my cheek with his hand. "I think-ah, someone needs to get some shut-eye."

"Not. With. You." I said through clenched teeth.

"Fight it all you want," the Joker said, annoyed. "I'm the boss around here, and things are going to, ah, to go the way I want them to go." Then, a strange glint appeared in his brown eyes, and he grinned at me. "One more question, _Tiger_."

"Can't it wait?" I said, exasperated.

The Joker licked his lips, seeming to ignore the question. "How 'bout a goodnight kiss?" Then, he leaned forward, brushing his lips against mine.

I fought the urge to hit him, clenching the bedcover tightly in my fists and stiffening my body against him. The Joker pulled away, a grin wide on his face. "You amuse me, Tiger. You _really_ do."

"Kiss me again and I swear, I'll kill you," I growled. He laughed and kissed me again. I shoved him off me and off the bed entirely.

The Joker hit the floor, laughing, and I jumped off the bed, making a break for the door. I tried the knob, realizing that he had locked it.

"Can't-ah get out _that_ way," he giggled, coming up behind me. Before I could resist, he wrapped his arms around me, and I struggled. He brought me back to the bed and dropped me on it.

I laid there, glaring at him, and then he leaped over me. I cried out as he landed on the other side of the bed, and then he thought better and lunged over me again, placing himself between me and the door. I growled angrily as the bed shook, and he just giggled, his macabre laugh sending shivers up my spine as he stretched himself out, propping himself with an elbow.

"What do you _think_ you're _doing_?" I demanded.

"Well, you're _tired_," the Joker said, waving a hand dramatically at me.

"Yeah, so you should leave me alone to sleep."

"We've talked about-ah this _al_-ready, Shadow," he said, rolling his eyes impatiently. "I'll be _joining_ you."

"Absolutely _not_!" I snapped, pushing his chest. "Leave!"

"I'm not-ah _leaving_ my own _room_, _Sha_-dow." The Joker laughed at my surprised expression as he grabbed hold of me, using me to anchor himself, as I was still pushing him away from me, only half-heartily.

Then, my fury sparked again, recovering from the shock. "Let _go_ of me!"

"Not-ah until you stop _pushing_ me," he said, grinning.

I tried to pull my hands away from him, but the Joker's grip turned into a vice. "I stopped, okay, so let me go," I growled.

The Joker waited until I was pulling as hard as I could before releasing. Without the force pulling me back, I nearly flipped backward off the bed, but the way I caught myself had me dangling over the edge. The Joker snickered, enjoying my embarrassment. I righted myself and glared at him, but my face was bright red, causing him to laugh even harder.

I couldn't do anything so I simply waited for him to stop. It seemed like the Joker was going to keep me alive _only_ because I made him laugh. It was the only reason he had given me so far, without even intending to. After a few moments – and he _still_ hadn't stopped – I slipped underneath the covers and turned my back on him.

I didn't close my eyes, just waited. The Joker finally calmed down a bit, and I felt the bed move as he shifted his position. I listened for his breathing to deepen before I turned over to look at him.

Even in sleep, he looked menacing, but not as much. The Joker had his hands behind his head, comfortably, and he had positioned himself so that he took up the least amount of space. I doubted that would remain that way all night though. The thing that unnerved me was the fact that even in his sleep, he was still grinning. Not just his scars, but his mouth was curved.

I rolled over again and faced the open windows, looking out at the purple and blue horizon. Even though the window was open, I felt no urge to try to escape. I had made my decision to stay with the Joker and work for him. I was already committed.

Even if I _tried_ escaping, the Joker would probably still wake up in time to catch me. No true criminal ever fell into a deep sleep; they learned to sleep lightly because of enemies. I've had the unfortunate nights where I went deep, deep enough to dream. Despite how easily the Joker slept, I had a feeling that he was a light-sleeper, making escape unlikely.

I kicked off my Skechers, realizing I was still wearing them and then snuggled under the covers, but got too hot and threw them off. However, abruptly remembering that I was sleeping next to the Joker, I pulled them back on, but let my feet stick out so that the breeze from outside blew across them, cooling them. My body ached for sleep, as did my mind call for time to recover from how many stressful days.

The predawn light from the windows fell on my eyes, and I turned my back to it, only to be facing the sleeping Joker. I turned back with an aggravated sigh. Unpleasant things on both sides; and I wasn't a person who could fall asleep on their back. I choose the lesser of the two and closed my eyes, shutting out redundant light.

* * *

**Lordlink13: There's the next chapter. I'll admit the beginning was hard to write because I can't keep hold of where my thoughts are taking this story. Intense moment in the beginning. I personally think the next chapter will begin just as intense, but be confusing; that's okay. I'll clear it up. And yes, you're guessing correct, **Sin**. Don't worry about it, **Confusing Cat**, and any other readers who bother to review, I'll write something to you too, _if_ you leave a review. *grins***


	10. Hired

_My feet dragged along the bark mulch as I swung slowly, back and forth. I clenched the chains tightly with my head pressed against my fist, keeping a steady rhythm with the soft squeaking of the chains. The wind blew my hair over my face, but I didn't notice._

_Light footsteps crunched in the bark mulch, and I saw a pair of converses._

"_Dude, those are new," I said._

_My best friend chuckled. "You always notice the shoes first. Try to guess what else is new."_

_I looked up, seeing him hold out his arms like he was expecting me to frisk him down. "You've cut your hair," I said, in surprise._

"_Yeah, had it in my face all the time."_

"_I liked it long."_

_He shrugged. "It'll grow out, Sara, don't worry. How long do you like it?"_

_I placed a hand right at the base of my neck. "I like the curl to it too."_

"_Think I should dye it?" he asked, pushing his short hair back, making a face._

_I laughed. "No, it's fine blond." Then, I gave him a sidelook. "I don't know. I see you dying your hair some exotic color like blue or yellow."_

"_What about purple?"_

"_Just cause it's my favorite color doesn't mean you have to dye it the same."_

_He shrugged. "Tell me, Sara, if you had a special ability, what would it be?"_

_I blinked in surprise. "Why are you asking me? I don't know."_

"_C'mon, something that fits your personality."_

"_I can't think of anything, other than wanting to disappear."_

"_You're not that anti-social, Sara."_

"_Maybe I am."_

"_No, you're not," he insisted._

_I shrugged. "What do you think I should have, if I had a special ability?"_

_He thought for a moment and then looked me in the eyes. "What I think is that you're like a shadow."_

"_Yeah, like a, ah, a shadow." The Joker's voice echoed in my head, and I blinked, the scene changing. I was sitting in the chair again but with my hands cuffed to the table. The Joker watched me from across the table, smirking at me. Pain erupted from my wrists as I struggled to get free._

"_Let me go, Joker!" I cried._

"_Not-ah until you say the magic words," he giggled, his eyes alit with mocking laughter._

"_Please don't do this," I pleaded. He waved a hand, and burning pain flared from my wrists. I cried out in agony, and the Joker laughed hysterically, enjoying my torture._

_Then, the dream shifted again, and I found myself in a dark alley. A man stood, blocking my exit, and he was holding a gun, pointed at my chest._

"_Please, Jason," I whispered, "Don't do this."_

"_It's my orders, Jane. It's the end of you." He fired, and I collapsed to the ground, falling in a puddle of blood._

_I returned to the beginning, sitting on the swings with my best friend, but I couldn't turn my head to look at him. He swung next to me, speaking quickly._

"_Don't be afraid of your ability, Sara," he whispered. "You should learn how to use it."_

"_No, I can't. It's what he wanted from me all this time. That's why he took me."_

"_Who took you?"_

_I didn't respond._

"_C'mon, Shadow, who took you and wanted your ability?"_

_I still didn't respond._

_Then, my friend grabbed me, and I looked up into his eyes. But it wasn't him. It was the Joker's face I saw. He smirked at me, placing his switchblade at the corner of my mouth._

"_Tell me, Shadow. It's the only way to, ah, to get around the past," he chuckled. His mocking laughter echoed in my ears, even as I woke up._

I didn't open my eyes, simply too frightened to see him. I could still his laughter, except it sounded muffled, despite being close to my ear. I felt movement underneath my head and arm. Frowning, I lifted my head and then blinked in surprise before jerking backwards with a startled cry.

"Uncalled for!" I yelled at the Joker, who chuckled in response, his eyes twinkling with amusement. I had snuggled my face into his shoulder with my arm draped over his chest.

"C'mon, Shadow, do I _look_ like I'm, ah, on your side?" the Joker asked with a wide grin. I looked to find that he was in the exact position and place that he had fallen asleep in.

I huffed at him as I sat up, brushing my hair back with my fingers. "So I moved over to your side," I murmured, irritably. "Doesn't mean anything."

"Sure it does," the Joker chuckled. "You should have _seen_ how you were _snuggled_ against-ah me. Arm over me, leg over mine…" I flinched, my eyes widening. "You even cuddled up against my face," the Joker continued. I glared at him to see the amusement on his face. "It would _seem_ like you're _lonely_, Shadow."

"Hardly," I murmured under my breath.

"How-_ever_, I think, ah, the _head_-butting was unnecessary. It's hard to sleep when you're getting _head_-butted." I looked away to hide my small smile. It was only a little victory, hurting him while he was sleeping. He deserved it. "Makes me wonder if, ah, if _Jason_ had to deal with it-ah whenever he slept-ah with you."

I stiffened and then whipped around. Without thinking, I asked, "How do you know about Jason?" Then, I snapped my mouth shut, but it was too late.

The Joker rolled onto his side and propped himself up with an elbow. His makeup was fading, smeared into the creases of his face. He licked his scarred lips as he regarded me with curiosity, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Jason," he repeated, waving a hand lazily, "Obviously he's not-ah a figment of your dreaming imagination…unless we take into account of your, ah, _problem_."

"I don't _have_ a problem," I snapped, irritably, secretly relieved that he had dropped the conversation.

"Oh, but you must," the Joker insisted, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "What do you call the, ah, _screaming_ and _crushing_ of my hand while complaining about-ah your head hurting?"

I blinked and then remembered the awful headache. "I had a really bad headache," I mumbled.

"Hm…I'm a, ah, an _expert_ on _prob_-lems, Shadow. I've worked with men with all sorts of _prob_-lems." The Joker leaned forward, bringing his face close to mine. I didn't move away, determined to show him that I wasn't scared of him. "I can _tell_ you have a _prob_-lem."

"No, I _don't_," I insisted. "Just because I had _one_ painful headache doesn't mean I have mental disorder! Anyone can get really bad headaches!"

"Not just _any_-one can get headaches like, ah, yours."

"It was just _this._ O_ne_._ Time_. I don't have hallucinations and I don't hear voices. I'm not _insane_!"

The Joker widened his eyes. "I _never_ said you were."

I glared at him. "If you're such an expert on problems, maybe you'd know what's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with _me_?" The Joker's expression had darkened in warning, but I was angry so I didn't notice.

"You're _crazy_."

I heard the unmistakable click of the Joker's switchblade, and I felt the cold metal against my throat. The Joker pushed me down onto the bed so that he could move to straddle me, trapping me on the bed. His eyes were dark with menace as he looked into mine. "_I'm. Not. Crazy._" He growled, speaking slowly.

My eyes widened, and I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

The Joker leaned back, taking away his switchblade, the anger vanishing rapidly from his features. "So, I'm curious," he said, calmly twirling his knife. "Who's Jason?"

As I relaxed from my tension, I threw an icy glare at him. The Joker obviously remembered about the name.

"What. 'Bout. Him?" I asked, crossly.

The Joker didn't look at me as he said, "You said his name in your sleep."

"And what's he to you?"

"I've al-_ready_ _said_ that-ah I was _cur_-ious, Shadow."

"Curiosity killed the cat," I murmured.

"But satisfaction brought it _back_," the Joker finished, leaning in and grabbing my face with his gloved hands. "C'mon, if the guy's not important, than it really wouldn't matter if, ah, if you told me about him."

I continued to glare at him. I didn't like how the Joker thought he could get whatever he wanted out of me, particularly when he was only doing it to torment me. The fact that he didn't even seem to care about the information he was seeking made me angrier. "I'm. Not. Gonna. Tell. You."

The Joker let out an aggravated sigh as he slid his knife down my cheek, letting me feel the cold blade. "I _al_-ways get what-ah I want, Shadow. You might as well give it _up_ and _tell_ me about-ah this Jason guy. I promise not to, ah, to hurt you _too_ much, _if_ you tell me."

"Seems like you'll hurt me either way," I snapped, "There's no way I'm telling you, unless I _want_ to."

The switchblade found its way to the corner of my mouth, teasing to slip in and cut. "Do you _enjoy_ pushing your luck, Shadow?" the Joker asked, in a sinister voice. "Why are you so, ah, _willing_ to be pushed off the _edge_?"

I half-heartedly chuckled, my tongue sliding out over my lips nervously, but I flinched when my tongue touched the blade waiting close to my mouth.

"I only have one reason to live," I told him, in an impassive tone. "And even _that's_ a lame excuse. I'm pushing my luck because I can. You can go ahead and kill me, torture me, make it slow and _painful_." The Joker cringed slightly, but I ignored it, focused on finishing my response. "You can have your fun with me and then throw me away like I'm trash. It wouldn't be the death I would have hoped for, but it would bring an end to my eternal misery. So, don't hold yourself back if I'm angering you. Go ahead and do whatever you want. Sure it will cause me to suffer, but in the end, I wouldn't care. I'm sure you could do anything you wanted and not feel guilty about what you've done."

The Joker didn't move for a few moments, simply staring at me. I didn't look away from his dark eyes, watching as his eyes flickered with rapidly altering emotions. His painted face took on a look of confusion before a smile returned to his scarred lips.

"When I first laid eyes on you, Shadow, I thought-ah I had you all _figured_ out," the Joker said slowly as his eyes darted about the room like he was thinking furiously. "Seems like I've taken in a, ah, a rather _interesting_ young woman." I tried to struggle, but he grabbed my wrists, holding them on the bed. He leaned in close, his hot breath mixing with mine. "You've got-ah _secrets_, secrets that you've hidden inside you for _years_. Secrets that you've never spoken of to _any_-one. Secrets that are _begging_ to get _out_!"

The Joker raised a hand to tenderly brush a stray strand of hair out of my face. "To _think_ that there's such a, ah, a _strain_ on one as young as you, Shadow."

I tried to bite his hand, but he only applied pressure on his switchblade, causing me to wince.

"Be a _good_ girl, Shadow, and I _might_-ah help you out."

"I don't need your help," I spat at him.

The Joker grinned, raising an eyebrow. "_Real_-ly? Awful headaches, screaming and _withering_ in pain last night? The nightmares that had you holding onto me like I could _protect_ you? Really, Shadow, you should have _seen_ your _re_-actions last night-ah. And the teleportation? Wanna explain _that_?"

I simply lied there, staring back into his intense gaze.

The Joker licked his lips quickly and then pushed himself up, bouncing off the bed. "C'mon, Shadow, get up!" he cried, throwing his arms out as if to make him look more fantastic. "We've got _work_ to do!"

"What work?" I asked, confused.

"Up, Shadow," the Joker repeated, motioning with his hand. I obeyed, not knowing what else to do. He smiled widely, his eyes wandering me up and down.

I glared at him and cleared my throat. "No dirty thoughts, now," I said in a dangerously low tone.

"Just-ah _think_-ing." The Joker's brow frowned in concentration as he continued to look me over, and I sat back down on the edge of the bed. This action caused him to glare at me, motioning for me to stand again with an irritated jerk of his hand. I lifted my legs and sat Indian-style, folding my arms over my chest, glaring back at him.

It was a battle of will and stubbornness. The Joker cleared his throat, but I still didn't move. He didn't hide his anger, and his grin slowly turned into a frown – which I was surprised that the scars still make him look like he was grinning. "Shadow…"

"Joker," I replied, in the same tone. His mouth twitched, resisting the urge to grin. "Why don't you just let me sit how I want and tell me what work we have to get done?" I suggested.

"Ah…_no_. That would make it too _eas_-y!" The Joker sauntered forward and grabbed my arms, yanking me off the bed. I barely managed to get my feet on the ground to avoid falling. The Joker brought me to the middle of the room, having me stand there while he circled me, a look of concentration on his face.

I watched him, my eyes narrowed, not trusting him. But he didn't seem to be trying to be threatening, but I didn't know what he had on his mind.

"What's your favorite color?" the Joker asked, absentmindedly.

I hesitated. "Purple," I whispered.

He stopped on my right side and looked at me. I matched his gaze for a few moments, and then he grinned. "All _right_," he said, bounding forward and grabbing my arm. "Let's _go_!"

We didn't get far. The Joker threw open his bedroom door, and nearly rammed into a man standing right outside in the hallway.

"Peter!" the Joker yelled. The man cowered back a few steps, fear flashing across his face. My arm was released, and the Joker cracked the man, knocking him down to the ground. "What-ah _are_ you _doing_?" he demanded.

"J-Just wondering w-what happened to the g-guys," the man stuttered. The Joker leaped forward, and the man whimpered like a wounded dog.

"You _noticed_?" the Joker asked. "I'm _proud_ of you, Peter." The man looked up, and his face seemed to glow. He didn't seem to realize that the Joker's tone was sarcastic.

The Joker reached down and grabbed him by the front of his jacket, lifting him up and slamming him against the wall. "What is _really_ your reason for _bother_-ing me this _early_?" I glanced at my wristwatch and shook my head. It was nearly ten at night; the Joker and I had slept all day.

Peter didn't know how to answer. He looked past the Joker and saw me. I shifted my weight uneasily, feeling comfortable under his lifeless gaze. He had messy black hair – that looked like he didn't take care of it – and with his mouth turned down in a slight frown, he seemed a rather solemn man. His face was devoid of emotion, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle with uneasiness. I was the one to look away first, turning my gaze to the Joker.

Peter returned his gaze to the Joker's, and the fear reappeared in his otherwise lifeless eyes.

However, the Joker's anger – or just his attention – had broken, and he looked between Peter and me, curiously.

"You _know_ each other?" he asked.

"No," I said simply. I don't know why the Joker would have thought that since he _knew_ that I hadn't been in Gotham for long, and most of the time I'd _been_ here was with _him_. "First sighting is all."

The Joker placed Peter on the ground slowly, and he turned, holding Peter's jacket with one hand. "Then let me intro-_duce_ you. Shadow, Peter. Peter, Shadow." He gestured between us, and I tried to steel my gaze against the dead one as I nodded an acknowledgement. I noticed that standing near the Joker, Peter was shorter than him by half an inch or so, so small of a difference, but I caught it nonetheless.

"I've _just_ thought-ah of some-_thing_," the Joker said, throwing out his arm, hitting me in the side of the head as he wrapped his arm over my shoulders, pulling me into him. "The _night_ you were at, ah, at the Stacked Deck, you were playing _poker_, cor-_rect_-ah?" I nodded, silently. "_Who_ were you playing _with_?"

"Couple guys," I said.

"Mind telling me their _names_," the Joker said, leaning his head against mine.

I pushed his head away, angering him. With him angry, I had to give him a name, but two of them I wanted to protect, _particularly_ Ron who helped me escape, despite its failure. "I can't remember all the names, but Kevin happens to be one of them."

"Sounds fa-_mil_-iar." The Joker threw his gaze at Peter. "Go get-ah _Bob_, if he managed to, ah, to make his way _back_ here."

Peter nodded and then hurried down the hallway and up the stairs.

"Is _Kevin_ the one who, ah, who _hit_ me on the _head_?" the Joker asked, his dark eyes boring into mine.

I shook my head. "I didn't play poker with him; he was sitting at the table next to mine so I didn't get his name," I lied smoothly. It didn't matter that I was risking my life by lying to the Joker, since he made it clear to me with the bartender at the Stacked Deck that he _hated_ liars. I was risking my life for a man who had risked his life for me; he deserved payback.

The Joker's face didn't change, and I felt a pang of worry. Did he know that I had lied? Could he read me _that_ easily? Or did he not notice the lie? I had plenty of practice with lying over many years; I knew all the tricks, but the way the Joker continued to stare at me, like he could see _right through me_, I feared that all the practice would be lost against the Clown Prince of Crime.

A moment passed, though, and the Joker nodded, accepting what I said – or at least I _hoped_ he accepted it. "I _think_ we have some _extra_ time," he said. "Underneath the bed, you'll find a, ah, a bag. Find some clothes and clean yourself up."

I stared at him in confusion, not fully comprehending what he had said, until he glared at me, growled, and then shoved me back into his bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

It dawned on me. _Oh_...

A duffel bag was hiding underneath the bed, like the Joker had said, and I pulled it out, tossing it onto the mattress and zipping it open. I simply stared at the contents for a few seconds before gasping in surprise. I turned the bag over and dumped all the contents onto the bed with a muffled, excited squeal.

It was my stuff from my motel room. That explained why the Joker had gone back into the motel before blowing it to smithereens. And I thought all he had done was go inside to set up all the explosives. At the same time, he must have snatched all of my possessions. As I pawed through the items, I created a mental list of what was there.

My clothes, some necessities, my iPod, my Toyota car keys – which I wondered if he had taken those from me along with my wallet – the few books I carried with me, and my laptop. The Joker had even managed to locate all my hidden guns, ammo, and, I _assumed_, my knives, but he probably took those for himself, being a man who liked sharp objects.

After taking a few moments to skip around happily about having all my belongings, I repacked them and kept the necessities and a set of clothing out. I took those into the bathroom, which amazed me because of how it was so clean. The purple shower curtains didn't surprise me, but I couldn't help but smile. Maybe the Joker wasn't so bad. If anything, we had a common favorite color.

I undressed and jumped into the shower, almost feeling the grime wash off me. Using the soap and sponge provided, I scrubbed myself clean, rubbing off all the dirt until my skin was pink. And I washed my hair with care, before simply standing there and letting the hot water wash over me. It helped me to relax, easing the tension in my body.

Finally, I shot off the water and toweled off good. I dressed into simple clothing: jeans with a belt, black shirt with my jacket, and black socks with my Skechers. Since I didn't have a blow dryer, I dried my hair as best I could before brushing it and pulling back into a ponytail. I had one weapon handy at all times now; a wet braid would hurt more, but I'm terrible with them.

When I was done, I left the bathroom to find the Joker sitting impatiently on his bed. It looked like he had gotten bored while I was cleaning myself that he actually made the bed, tucking in the corners and fluffing out the pillows too. I couldn't help but laugh at him for a side of him that I didn't think _anyone_ would have thought existed.

"Yeah, yeah, not-ah what you ex-_pec_-ted," the Joker said, bouncing off the bed. He bounded over and stopped, eying me. "Black isn't-ah the _only_ colors that would _work_ on you," he muttered. "And the jacket's getting, ah, _old_."

"Got a problem with what I chose to wear?" I asked, challenge in my voice.

The Joker looked me straight in the eyes and grinned. "The outfit's _fine_…for _now_. Is _this_ what you've been, ah, _wearing_ for your other bosses?"

"No, they don't have _particular_ tastes with fashion. And if you think you're going to make me wear something that matches you, think again."

The look on the Joker's face made me worried. It seemed like in his head, he was already formulating something for me. I was too afraid to ask, and I had the feeling that it would be dangerous to tell him he couldn't go ahead and do whatever he wanted.

"At least keep the shoes," I said, quietly.

"Hm? What-ah was that, Shadow?"

"If you're thinking of an outfit for me in the future, work in the shoes," I said, tapping one foot to draw his attention down to my Skechers. "They're my signature shoes." He turned his head to the side, giving me a confusing sidelook – I couldn't tell if he was curious as to why or disgusted by my choice of shoes. "Think of them as your jacket, _Mistah_ J," I said, stressing the name he told me to call him.

The Joker's scarred smile curved into a wide grin. "You won me over," he said, lifting his hands up in surrender. "But everything _else_, I choose?"

"Depends how _bad_ it looks on me."

"C'_mon_, you _have_ to, ah, to ad-_mit_ that I have good fashion sense."

My mouth turned up into an easy smile, my first one since the Joker had kidnapped me. "You _do_ have good fashion sense."

The Joker chucked and shook his head violently, causing his light green hair to fall into his face. He pushed it back with a hand and then said, "C'mon, Bob and Peter are _wait_-ing." He grabbed my wrist and pulled me close, standing there for a moment and sniffing my hair. "But I have to, ah, to _compliment_ you on how _nice_ you smell right-ah now."

"I thought I told you to give me insults," I said, laughing.

The Joker laughed with me as he pulled me along after him, out the door and down to the first floor. We headed for the back again and came out into the alleyway.

Bob had several bruises on his face, and he subconsciously held a hand to his stomach where I must have stabbed him. He wasn't giving me a friendly look as the Joker and I exited the apartment, but he was smart enough not to prove any more of his dislike toward me while his boss was in the vicinity.

Peter stood by the silver car, which turned out to be a nice Volvo. He leaned against the hood, looking up at the apartment windows, like he was searching for someone. I watched him for an extra moment, to see him nod as if he was acknowledging someone, and I twisted to see, but the Joker's arm around my shoulders turned me back.

A third man was waiting for us, and it took me a few seconds to recognize him as Shaun from the Stacked Deck, the guy who always cheated according to Kevin and Ron.

"Shaun!" the Joker exclaimed, excitedly. "Here to, ah, to _pay_ me _back_?"

Shaun grinned. "No, sorry, Joker. I don't do that right away. Bob called me over. Told me that you was looking for _information_ on some people at the Stacked Deck."

The Joker flashed Bob a threatening glance, and Shaun caught it.

"Don't be mad at him, boss," Shaun said, stepping forward in front of Bob like he was about to protect him. "I got what you need."

"We'll _see_," the Joker growled, pushing me forward slightly. "Seen her before, Shaun?"

Shaun looked at me, and instant recognition flashed across his face. "I was leaving when she came in. Sure I've seen her. Kevin talks about her whenever you're mentioned in the conversation."

The Joker's head jerked to the side instantly, catching the name. "Kevin?" he repeated, licking his lips slowly, hungrily.

"Yeah, one of my poker pals."

"Got-ah any _others_?"

My eyes widened. The Joker was close to the jackpot. I stared at Shaun, pleading silently for him to not say anything.

"Oh, _sure_," Shaun babbled, proudly. "I got Billy, Cory, Ted, and Ron. No guy's got just _one_ poker pal. Right, Joker?" He winked at the Joker playfully, and I wished the Joker would pull out a gun and shoot him dead.

The Joker chuckled softly. "Sure, Shaun," he agreed. "One pal's not-ah _enough_. Ya know what-ah, Shaun. Since you still _owe_ me money, how 'bout working it off since you're _al_-ways cheating that money off of your _'pals'_?"

Shaun shrugged. "I can do that," he said. The Joker stuck out his hand, and Shaun grasped it; they shook on it, which surprised me that the Joker would struck up a compromise just like that.

The Joker nodded and then pulled away from Shaun. "Everyone in the car," he ordered, motioning to Volvo. "Shadow, here, gets _shotgun_!"

"What?" I looked at the Joker in surprise. Did he want me next to him?

"You heard-ah me," he said. "You just-ah _cleaned_ up, Shadow. Don't want-ah the boys _soil_-ing you. Who _knows_ when was the last-ah time _they_ showered?" He grinned at me, and I smiled back, actually finding that he had a similar sense of humor to mine.

The Joker walked me over to the Volvo where Peter had already taken the driver's seat. I assumed Peter was the one who had driven the car beforehand; he seemed very comfortable taking a spot without having to get permission from the Joker. As I climbed into the passenger's seat, the Joker shut the door for me, like a gentleman, and then walked around the Volvo, knocking on Peter's window.

Peter obediently slid it down, and the Joker leaned in, whispering something into his ear. I tried straining to listen, but Shaun were getting into the backseat. Whatever the Joker had told Peter, the man got it.

Then came the interesting part. The Joker was going to sit in the backseat of the car with Bob and Shaun. Since Bob and the Joker's relationship was already tense, I wondered if Bob was going to last the drive.

Bob had one of the window seats with Shaun sitting next to him, like he was a barrier against the Joker. When the Joker saw this, he frowned slightly and then grinned.

"_I_ call the _hump_!" he exclaimed, excitedly.

I tried so hard not to laugh, but I couldn't help it. Clapping a hand over my mouth, I giggled over what the Joker had claimed. _No one_ wanted the middle of the backseat. Everyone tried to avoid it, and the fact that the _Joker_ had called it; it was funny.

Shaun started laughing too. "All _right_, boss, you can have it," he chuckled, moving to climb out of the car.

"No-no, Shaun. Just sit-ah in the seat, and I'll _climb_ over you." Shaun shrugged carelessly and turned to the side in the other window seat. The Joker actually giggled with excitement before climbing in over Shaun and settling himself on the hump. I looked back to see that the Joker actually looked _pleased_ with himself about getting what he wanted.

Once the guys were settled, Peter turned on the car and started off. I kept glancing back to see what the Joker was doing to torment Bob for being a bad boy.

The Joker, seeing me watching him, decided to put on a show. He leaned back in his seat and placed his arms over the top of the backseat, stretching them behind Shaun and Bob. To make it even _better_, the Joker crossed his legs, letting out a high-pitched giggle.

Shaun leaned forward slightly, his expression revealing that he was having second thoughts about his decision to work for the Joker to pay him back, but the Joker didn't seem to mind.

The Joker turned his head, looking over at Bob, who had stiffened, facing forward and trying to keep his face emotionless. I had to face forward to keep myself from laughing out loud. The way the Joker tormented Bob was so simple but so funny. Not only was Bob uncomfortable, it just made it better that Shaun was regretting his new position.

Watching the Joker silently tormenting Bob had me losing track of how long we were in the car. Next thing I know, we've parked on the curb in front of my old motel.

"Okay, Shadow, let's get out-ah!" the Joker exclaimed as he reached over Shaun to get the door handle. I stepped out of the car before the Joker had the backdoor open, but he managed to get out quick enough. "Get your _pals_," the Joker told Shaun. "We'll meet you there." He grinned and slammed the backdoor shut.

The silver Volvo pulled away, driving in a U-turn before heading down the way it had come.

"Let's go see if, ah, if your _car's_ still there," the Joker said, bounding forward. I followed a step behind him over to the parking lot near the ruins of the motel. I was half-convinced that the police would have found my car and had given it over to some car dealer, assuming that the driver had been killed in the explosion five days ago. There was also the possibility that the police had discovered that it was a stolen car and would have returned it to my last ex.

But, surprise, surprise, my ex's stolen Toyota was still sitting where I had last seen it.

"Oh no," I exclaimed, smacking my head with my hand.

"What?" the Joker asked, half-turning.

"I left my keys back at your place."

"Good thing I had a, ah, a _thought_." He lifted his gloved hand, jingling my car keys. "And I'm driving."

"It's _my_ car," I protested.

"But do you _know_ how to get-ah to the Stacked Deck from here?" He looked at me expectantly, and I sighed, shaking my head. The Joker smirked, a mocking gleam in his brown eyes. "_That's_ what I thought-ah."

* * *

**Lordlink13: Whoa! I love writing this story. It's so fun. So many reviewers are saying that they love it and all and it makes me feel so happy. It really makes my day to check my email and find that people have reviewed. And Batman totally made a cool entrance. Hey, **Sin**, might want to watch what you write. The Joker has already proven to Shadow that he doesn't like being called names. If you want, I can arrange for you to hug Bats while the Joker's not looking. So, I'm quite proud of how I'm writing the Joker's parts. I tried pulling it off in my first version of this story and totally _failed_. So I'm happy that people believe I'm doing it this time. I'll end this author's note with my thanks and with a promise to continue writing. Remember, reviews are always encouragement, and I'd appreciate it if you left one before you go read other stories. Signing out...**


	11. Trust

It's interesting to discover how fast one's emotions changed. On the way to the Stacked Deck from the motel ruins, the Joker had played with the radio of my ex's Toyota, wincing when it came to classical music. When he settled on a station, I reached over and changed it, grinning at the frustrated look that crossed his face. However, he'd notice the smile, and would start laughing, only to change the station back.

It was all in good fun, good nature's humor. I have to admit that I had _fun_.

But now, standing in the back alley behind the Stacked Deck with the Joker, waiting for Bob, Shaun, and Peter to bring Shaun's _pals_, I was a nervous wreck.

My hands shook with anxiety; I had to bury them in my pockets to hide them from the Joker. I resisted the urge to bite my lip or move with jerky movements. Actually, I was so still that I was stiff, leaning against the wall with my feet crossed at the ankles. Even with my head ducked down, I kept my eyes moving, darting between the ends of the alley, the back door, and the Joker.

"Shadow, you look _nerv_-ous." My eyes darted over to the Joker, and when I realized that he was talking to me, I turned my head to face him. "No, let me re-_phrase_ that-ah. You _are_ nervous." The Joker chuckled softly from his position in the middle of the alley, turned toward the back door. He was looking at me over his shoulder, the Glasgow grin on his face.

"Anyone would be nervous around an unpredictable guy like you," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Unpre-_dic_-table?" he repeated, slowly turning to face me. "I _like_ it-ah." The Joker bounded forward, trapping me against the wall, his hands beside my head, his face looming into mine. "Are you _al_-ways this _nervous_ on the job?" I shook my head before I realized that I should have lied. The expression on my face wasn't missed by the Joker. He giggled excitedly, licking his lips. "I have the im-_press_-ion that-ah _someone's_ been _lying_ to me."

"Not if my _life's_ on the line," I protested.

"You're a, ah, a good _act_-ress, I'll give you that-ah." He licked his lips again, his eyes darting off to the side before saying, "_But_-ah, I'm not _convinced_."

He was standing so close to me, his face right in mine. I felt his hot breath on my neck, and it made my skin itch. Clenching my fists tightly by my side, I growled, "Get outta my face."

"_Defensive_, aren't-ah we?" The Joker giggled, shifting his feet and closing the distance between us, pressing me against the wall. "You're _really_ walking on the edge, Shadow."

"I'm aware," I deadpanned.

The Joker eyed me for a few seconds – seconds that felt agonizingly long. "A bit-ah of advice, _Sha_-dow," he said, "Don't bother lying to me. I'll find out-ah in the end. It's less _pain_-ful for you in the _long_ run." He looked at me from under his brow, raising his eyebrows dramatically.

I nodded. "I'll keep that in mind," I said.

A grin broke out on his face. "You're young. I'm glad to, ah, to know that you can still be _taught_." He patted my cheek, hard.

I winced and glared at him, cold fury burning in my eyes. "Don't. _Touch_. Me."

The Joker's eyes narrowed as his tongue slid out slowly over his lips. "When you're ah-_sleep_, you don't-ah _mind_ me, but, awake, you've got-ah _quite_ a _temp _-er." His hand moved, gripping my chin roughly, his leather gloves rubbing against my skin. "Just-ah _think_ for a moment, Shadow," he said, his voice sinister. "You've hurt-ah me _many_ times, and I haven't come _after_ you about it-ah." He tightened his grip, making my jaw hurt. "I could _break_ you, if I _want_-ed."

I didn't doubt that he could. The Joker was a man who simply didn't care. He blew up buildings, robbed banks, chased down victims, killed people, created chaos…and he _loved_ doing it. He had his sights on being the unpredictable Clown Prince of Crime, the most wanted and most feared criminal mastermind. If anyone got in his way, he'd kill them.

Why he bothered with someone like me, who was obviously rebellious and trained in a different fashion, I hadn't the _slightest_ idea.

"Are you afraid?" he asked suddenly, the coldness leaving his voice as fast as it had come.

I kept my face emotionless as I shook my head.

The Joker's eyes hardened, but he couldn't pursue the thought since the back door banged open loudly.

"We got them, boss!" Shaun's cheerful voice called. "They couldn't move fast enough..." I glanced over the Joker's shoulder to see Shaun standing in the doorway, a surprised expression on his face, his eyes wide, and his mouth open in the "oh" shape.

I would have stepped away from the boss if I could, but with him still pressing me into the wall, I wasn't going anywhere. The Joker, fortunately, had the same idea thought.

"I don't-ah like being kept _wait_-ing," the Joker growled, pushing off the wall casually, cocking his head as he half-turned. He did it in a way that would have convinced me that nothing 'exciting' was going on between us.

Shaun struggled to swallow, nervous. "S-Sorry, boss, won't happen again."

"It _better_ not-ah."

Bob appeared, shoving Shaun aside. The Joker's _victims_ followed in Bob's wake with Peter taking up the rear, the three of them looking wary at the sight of the guns in Bob and Peter's hands.

Out of Shaun's pals, I recognized Kevin and Bill right away. The former was eying Peter's gun that was close to his left arm, but he looked up. Upon seeing the Joker, his eyes widened in disbelief and fear, but when he noticed me, he glared at me, like he was blaming me for his current predicament. Bill was leaning against the unknown pal, his head drooping even though he struggled to hold it up.

I heard an unmistakable _click_ as the Joker walked toward Shaun's pals, but his eyes were on the escaping Shaun who had stepped back to hide behind his friends. The Joker pushed aside Kevin and Bill to get to Shaun. Whimpering with fear, Shaun winced as the Joker leapt forward, grabbing him and pressing the switchblade to his mouth.

"Sorry-sorry-sorry-sorry-_sorry_," Shaun pleaded, trying to avoid the knife. The Joker placed a hand under Shaun's chin and jerked up. Shaun's head smashed into brick wall, and he cried out in pain before getting cut off as the Joker grasped his throat.

"First _hour_, Shaun, and you disappoint-ah me," the Joker growled, his voice menacing as his hand slowly tightened around the man's throat. Shaun struggled, his hands raking at the Joker's gloved one, but his attempts were in vain as the Joker was fixed upon killing him.

Unable to watch the man die slowly, I cleared my throat loudly, adding an inhuman growl at the end.

The Joker's shoulders drooped slightly as he heaved a sigh of frustration. He pushed Shaun back into the wall and released his throat, letting him hit the wall and collapse to the ground, gasping loudly for air. The Joker half-turned, ignoring Shaun as his attention averted to me, a treacherous gleam in his eyes.

The look stirred fear inside me, but I kept control over my expression, making devoid of emotion as I stared back at him. When he didn't move for several seconds, I help up my hands in mock surrender.

The Joker continued to stare at me.

"Um, boss." The Joker jerked his head toward Peter violently; his angry eyes meeting the man's and making him flinch. "The job…" Peter said, his voice lowering as he spoke in fear.

The Joker growled, and then turned back to Kevin, Bill, and the unknown guy. "I'll make this _sim_-ple," he said, irritably. "I'm in the need of, ah, of new guys. Either you're in or you're _dead_." He put away his switchblade and pulled out a semi-automatic, waving it around as a warning. "How 'bout it-ah, _boys_?" he asked. "The pay's good; you won't have to, ah, to play poker at places like _here_." He motioned to the nightclub behind them, and Bill, being drunk, actually turned his head to figure out what the Joker was talking about.

As soon as he turned his head back, the Joker fired. The nameless guy quickly released Bill, letting his body simply drop on the ground. Kevin's face hardened, though his eyes widened slightly in disbelief. Shaun, still sitting on the ground, looked sick, his eyes fixed on the sight of his dead buddy.

The Joker put the safety on the semi-automatic and tossed it over his shoulder. I caught it easily and watched as the Joker sauntered teasingly toward Shaun who's face drained of color. I couldn't help but respect the Joker for how he moved, so fluently, transferring fear in others.

The Joker crouched in front of Shaun and brought his face inches from the man, staring him down hard. "Don't. Disap-_point_ me," he said. "Or you'll end up like your _pal_." Without waiting for an answer from the petrified Shaun, the Joker straightened and walked toward Kevin. "Ever had a, ah, a _happy_ day in your life?" the Joker asked offhandedly.

Kevin looked confused, but his eyes widened as the Joker grabbed the back of his neck and threw him down to the ground, sidestepping to avoid falling down with him. As Kevin sprawled on the floor, the Joker turned to the unknown guy and set his hunched shoulders as he approached him.

He said something in a low voice, causing the Joker to stop in his tracks.

"Mind re-_peat_-ing that?" the Joker asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Cory," the guy replied, a bit louder. "It's my name."

"Well, I _figured_." The Joker shrugged and turned, grinning at me. However, something caught his eye, and he turned his head. Curious, I did to and saw something – or some_one_ disappear around the corner.

Without wasting another second, I broke into a run, following the runaway, whoever it was. A chill ran through me as I ran, and strangely, I felt myself getting lighter and running faster. I didn't notice anything else as I was speeding around the corner and sprinting after the stranger.

The guy was trying to duck around a sharp corner, but I pounced on him from behind, knocking him headfirst onto the sidewalk. His head bounced off the cement sidewalk, and he cried out in pain. He fought me, but as he had a head wound, it wasn't hard to subdue him. I disarmed him, finding a knife and a gun on him, and used his gun – partnered with the Joker's – to get him to behave and head back to the back alley.

The Joker was waiting, and when he saw me with my prisoner, he grinned and started clapping his hands, on the verge of laughing. "I'm so _proud_ of you, Shadow!" he exclaimed.

I didn't feel like answering. Instead, I just kicked the back of my prisoner's legs, forcing him down on his hands and knees before the Joker.

However, seeing this, the grin on the Joker's face vanished. "Now-now, Shadow, can't you be _nice_?"

"No, Joker, I _can't_," I said, in a detached voice.

He scowled at me, despite his scar-smile. I just rolled my eyes and then realized that besides me, my prisoner, and the Joker, only Peter and Shaun's pal Cory remained in the alleyway.

"Where's-?" I began.

"The car," the Joker replied quickly, already guessing what my question was. I scowled at him, and he smirked, licking his lips quickly before his eyes fell on my prisoner. He sauntered over and crouched down near the man, lifting his chin with a hand.

The man took one glance at the Joker and started whining loudly. I walked around him, standing to the side so I could see the man's face, and it didn't surprise me that he seemed to be on the verge of tears.

The Joker looked at him hard, his eyes slightly narrowed as he turned his head, giving him the sidelook. "Running away?" he drawled, "Because you _heard_ something you weren't-ah _supposed_ to hear?" The Joker clicked his tongue as he turned the man's head to the sides, as if he was examining how he looked. His switchblade clicked in his free hand, and the moment the blade touched the guy's skin, he burst into tears.

"Please, don't hurt me, Mr. Joker," the man pleaded as he sobbed. "I have a family. A wife. Brothers and sisters. I'll work for you, if that will spare my life. Please, just don't hurt me."

Instead of absorbing the man's fear, the Joker rejected it, even became angered by it. "Married?" he said, coldly. "No kids?"

The man, too afraid to think of how bizarre it was for the Joker to be asking about kids, only shook his head in response to the clown's question. I thought of how strange it was for the Joker to be asking a personal question like that. It was even stranger how he reacted toward the man's answer.

The Joker straightened suddenly, pulling the man with him, jerking the blade across the man's cheek. A cry of pain escaped the man's lips as blood seeped from the minor wound on his face, but he silenced as the Joker brought him face-to-face with him.

"Please," the man cried, "I have information! Please, I'll do _anything_!"

I watched the Joker, seeing his thoughts and emotions swirl in his eyes as he continued to stare the man down. His scars stretched as his mouth curved down in a frown as he turned his head slightly toward me. For a moment, his eyes flickered over to me, like he was asking me something, and I gave him a small shrug, spinning his gun in my hand casually.

His brow frowned, but he turned back to the man and smiled.

"What's your name?" the Joker asked, curiously.

"T-Ted," the man stuttered.

"What-ah _kind_ of information do you have?"

"I work for Tommy Frost, a Mobster."

"Must be new to, ah, to Gotham. The Mob doesn't-ah _exist_ here." The Joker's eyes flickered over in my direction to catch my reaction to this news. I must have looked disappointed because he chuckled softly before returning his attention to his victim. "Let me ask _one_ question, Teddy. _Where_ would Tommy be at this hour?"

The man sniffed as he looked over the Joker's head, trying to remember.

I glanced at my wristwatch. "It's about ten forty," I said to prompt the guy's memory.

"He has an appointment at the subway at eleven twenty," the man said, hesitantly. "Near Wayne Enterprises."

The Joker seemed to consider this for a moment. "Does he _trust_ you with, ah, with such information, Teddy?" As he asked this, the Joker held out a hand toward me, and I tossed him his gun. "Be-_cause_ if I were him, I _wouldn't_-ah." The Joker pushed Teddy away from him and then shot him in the chest.

I flinched as Teddy lifelessly down to the ground, never to stand up again.

"What-ah are you _thinking_?"

I looked up to see that the Joker was talking to me, but hadn't taken his eyes away from the man on the ground. "Wondering what you plan on doing now," I said.

The Joker turned to me, looking unhappy. "What-ah did I _tell_ you about me and _plan_-ning, _Sha_-dow?"

I smirked. "_Sorry_, Mist-_ah_ J."

The Joker grinned and then looked over at Peter. "Go to, ah, to the subway. We'll meet-ah you there." Peter nodded and headed into the nightclub, hiding his gun in his jacket. "Can you guess what-ah we're _doing_, Shadow?" the Joker asked, in a teasing tone.

"Going home?" I guessed, a small smile on my face to show that I was joking. "Or maybe going after the wanna-be Mobster?"

The Joker giggled hysterically at that. "So _witty_, Shadow," he laughed. "I _enjoy_ having you ah-_round_!"

With that, he ordered Cory to drive my Toyota, nearly chucking my keys at the new guy. I sat in the back of my car with the Joker, who had a hard time sitting still, being excited for the next part of the job.

"I like this job, I _like_ it!" he said happily as Cory sped down the streets, headed for the subway station. After a fifteen-minute drive, we met Bob, Shaun, Kevin, and Peter at the station. I swear, as the Joker approached his guys, he was actually _skipping_ with enthusiasm.

"Did one of you _check_ down there?" the Joker asked. They shook their heads, and the Joker's excitement seemed to evaporate into the air instantly. "Why _not_-ah?" he demanded. "We can't go walking in without-ah _knowing_ a bit of our _enemy_, can we?"

"We've done it _before_," Bob murmured.

"I'm sure we can handle it," Shaun said. By the looks of him, he seemed to have recovered from his near heart attack earlier.

The Joker threw a hard look in his direction, and in response, Shaun cowered away, a look of fear flashing across his face. Then, the Joker looked over at Peter, gesturing with a hand. Peter nodded and turned so abruptly that Shaun gave a little squeak of fright before realizing that Peter had ran past him, disappearing down the street.

I raised an eyebrow with curiosity, wondering what the Joker had told Peter to do. Sending him off on his own mission? I snorted. Trust in _one_ guy?

Then, the Joker looked at me, and I realized that now it was my turn for his attention. He motioned me toward him with his hand, glancing at the others standing by. I hesitated, and when he gave an irritated jerk of two of his fingers, I jerked forward like I was a puppet held by the strings that the Joker held.

The Joker waited until I was in range before he grabbed my wrist, pulling me into him and replacing his arm around my shoulders, entrapping me. "I want you…to look ah-_round_ for me, Shadow," he said in a low tone, like he didn't want the others listening.

As he spoke, he started walking me toward the stairs that would bring us down to the subway. Loudly, he said, "Stay _put_-ah, boys!" Then, he brought his mouth close to my ear, and his voice lowered again. "Don't _disappoint_ me." He clicked open his switchblade in his hand as a warning, and then released me, spinning and walking away, leaving me by the stairs.

I blinked with surprise and glanced over my shoulder, slightly confused. I saw the Joker stopped and seemed to be slowly turning, like a warning to me, and I understood, turning back and heading down the stairs.

The Joker trusted me, on my second night working for him, to perform a little spying mission on my own. I didn't think that he would _ever_ leave me alone to my own devices, to perform my own duties without him overseeing what I was doing. By letting me go, the Joker had proved that he trusted me not to run off again.

Trust…it was something I _rarely_ gave someone, let alone gain someone else's trust. Trust wasn't something I took lightly. It was too serious of an emotion; one's life could depend on it. By the way he treated his henchmen; the Joker trusted _none_ of them, not even Bob who obviously had been with him for awhile, managing to avoid getting killed for doing something wrong.

Well, maybe Peter managed something with the Joker if he was able to tell what the Joker wanted without him telling him. But that didn't matter to me. What mattered was the fact that the Joker was placing trust in me when he really _shouldn't_ be.

Trust, in my opinion, was too _dangerous_ to give, or to have.

As I neared the bottom of the stairs into the subway station, I formed a disguise to play. It was already going to be suspicious, with me being a young woman with a tore jacket, riding the subway late at night. I could play the role of a woman who's coming home late from work, but that would simply be too complicated with what I had on me – aka. Emergency money and my gun.

I gave up and simply shoved my hands into my pockets, head down as I stepped into the station. At the machine, I fed it a twenty, calculating how much money was needed. Two dollars for each person. Twelve, fourteen dollars – if Peter returned while I was scouting – with leftovers. As I received my Charlie card, I wondered if the Joker would reimburse me. Doubt it, but it was an amusing scenario.

Using my card, I slipped into the station and then hid the card under the machine, poking out so that the Joker should notice it. If not, his loss, not mine.

Being close to eleven, there was a small amount of people riding the greenline. I didn't know any details for what I was looking for so I wandered, keeping a sharp lookout. Surely, the Joker must've known I hadn't seen Tommy Frost before.

I approached the redline just as it was coming in. I stopped at the sight of a thin cop stepping off the subway. He held the leashes of three big dogs. My eyes widened in surprise as I recognized the type.

_Rottweilers_…damn, I _wanted_ them.

I leaned against a pillar, crouching and pretending to tie my shoelaces while looking around, like I was searching for someone…which I _was_. I kept track of the cop with the dogs.

It was curious how the cop had _three_ of them. Wasn't the rule one cop, one dog? And it certainly didn't look like the dogs liked him, by the way they were snarling. It seemed like the dogs were in charge, fighting against the cop. I watched with a smirk on my face as the cop walked by me, panting with the effort of holding the Rottweilers. With how thin he was – and with how his clothing seemed too _big_ for his size – I was convinced that the man holding the dogs wasn't a real cop.

I followed him, discreetly.

The fake cop approached a man wearing dark shades, fighting to pull the Rottweilers with him. I moved around them to hide behind a pillar nearby.

"For Mr. Frost," the cop told Shades.

Shades nodded and took the three leashes easily in one hand, pulling out a packet of bills. "Better by the clown's," Shades said.

"They are," the fake cop insisted. "Got them from the Pound."

Shades nodded and counted out the cop's money, before handing it over to him. "Get lost," he ordered, and the fake cop nodded before turning away to catch the subway going the opposite direction.

Shades pocketed his money, and after tucking harshly on the Rottweilers' leashes, he started off. I followed behind, making a curvy pathway through the pillars and the few people around.

Shades turned to take a set of stairs that would bring him off the redline. I was curious; meeting Mr. Frost in a restricted area? How fun!

Two men were waiting for him, and he had to flash his ID to pass them. Now _that_ was a problem, but I realized that they were standing in the shadows, almost hidden from view.

A curious sensation raced through me, and I shivered as I felt a chilling breeze blow over my skin. I looked around, wondering where the breeze came from, but I couldn't find any source. I wasn't standing near any stairways to the outside world, and not a single subway train was going by.

I suppose it was instinct that I knew what it was and how to work it. I walked toward the two guys, holding onto my gun in case they stopped me, but as I stepped into the shadows, a wave of warmth washed over me. I walked right past the two men without them so much as _looking_ at me.

When I stopped on the other side, I looked back at the two men with surprise. It was still shadowy on this side, but they _should_ be able to see me, right?

I lifted my hand as if to wave at them when I caught sight of my hand. I blinked, seeing that my hand didn't look…_solid_. Transparent hands…in the shadows? I looked at my other hand to confirm it.

A strange giddiness came over me, and I leaped into the air, punching the air with a whoop!

The two men heard me and looked at me. "What the-?" one guy said while the other grabbed his gun and fired in my direction.

I swear the bullet the man fired was flying slowly. I could see it as it flew in my direction. I dropped to the ground, watching as it sailed over my head, missing me by inches. What _was_ this? Time control?

I heard two rapid shots and rolled out of the way as the next two bullets hit my previous spot at natural speed. Without question, my reflexes kicked in, and I fired two shots in succession, hitting both men. I got one in the leg and the other in the shoulder, but it was good enough for me.

I scrambled to my feet and raced in the direction I thought Shades went in without any delay.

Shades wasn't far ahead of me, and I ran directly into him. As he turned, I cracked the guy in the nose, feeling the bone yield under my knuckles. Even as he stepped back in surprise and pain, I followed the punch with a knee into the groin.

Being in pain, Shades had released his hold on the leashes, and the Rottweilers raced forward, breaking away from me and him. I stared after them until I heard a gunshot and a short whimper. One of the dogs was down!

I broke into a run after them. No one was getting away from killing a dog as magnificent as a Rottweiler.

I was running so fast, I didn't see the man coming around from behind a pillar, holding an assault rifle. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground, shocking pain bursting from my forehead because the idiot missed my nose.

"Got one!" the guy called proudly. "Oh, it's a woman," he said in a lower tone. "Hope I didn't kill her…I work too much with so little pay…hm…"

I didn't know why he was talking to himself, but I could sense where his train of thought was going. Oh no he _wasn't_!

A chilling sensation rippled through me, riding along with a surge of adrenaline mixed with fury. The pull of gravity lessened on me. I opened my eyes, seeing everything through the purple haze. A pounding headache emerged from where the guy had hit me, but after a few seconds, even _that_ faded into nothingness.

I sensed the man approaching, becoming aware of everything about him. His uneven breathing, his pounding heart, his grunt as he crouched beside me, the rustle of his clothes, his rifle touching the ground, his arms as they reached for me.

I placed my hands flat on the ground and pushed up. With gravity's pull lighter on me, I flew up to my feet and fell over the other way, with the miscalculation of needed strength. It didn't matter. I kicked off the ground with my feet, swinging my body so that I kicked the guy in the face, knocking him onto his back in the process.

I continued to swing on my hands before coming to my feet. Distantly in my head, the image of me balancing on my hands like B-Boys and B-Girls do flashed across my mind's eye before disappearing. I started running, hearing a clear whistle sounding nearby.

The restricted area opened up, and I slowed, hugging the wall as I neared the opening, keeping to the shadows to meld into them. I peeked around the corner.

Two groups of men faced one another, guns trained on the enemy. A set of five against a band of nine. The only two men who didn't have guns out where who I assumed to be Tommy Frost, and of course, the Joker.

"Trying to, ah, to _steal_ my dogs, Tommy?" the Joker asked, conversationally.

Frost, who had a bodyguard behind him with a gun over his shoulder, trained on the Joker, smirked. "They're not yours, Joker," he said, smugly. "They're mine."

"_Real_-ly?" The Joker turned his head slightly, eyeing Tommy out of the corners of his eyes. "I don't-ah _think_ so. They obeyed _my_ whistle, not-ah _yours_."

I heard a quiet whimper of pain, and I looked over in the shadows. With the purple haze, I could see the three Rottweilers easily. One of them was lying on the ground, its leg outstretched as blood leaked from a gun wound. Without hesitation, I crept over, being quiet to avoid calling attention to myself.

The two Rottweilers protecting the wounded one growled warningly at me, but I came slowly, sliding down to their level but still moving toward the whimpering dog. The other two didn't stop me, and I couldn't help but pat their heads quickly and gently before reaching the third.

"And now one of your men has _shot_-ah one of my dogs," the Joker growled, angrily. "That's not-ah something I'm going to let you get _away with_."

"The Joker has feelings for dogs?" Frost chuckled. "Well, I suppose it works since you _are_ one."

"I am." I glanced at Frost to see his eyes widen in surprise. He didn't expect the Joker to agree so callously with him. "How-_ever_, Tommy, do you _know_ what dogs do when they don't _like_ someone? Do you know what's the _safest_ place from them?"

The Joker lifted a hand, making the Mobster's men jump, but the Joker only motioned his men to lower their weapons. "You wanna _hint_, Mr. Fr-_ost_-ah?" he asked. He pointed over Frost's shoulder, and when Frost turned, the massacre began.

Gunshots ricocheted off the walls, and lights flashed. The Rottweilers beside me dropped to their hunches, half-growling, half-whimpering. I ducked down, not knowing who was shooting who. Bullets bounded off the wall over my head, and I gasped, startled.

Then, the shooting stopped in the same fashion that it had started. I lifted my head cautiously and looked around.

One of the Joker's men was flat on his back, dead. The others – Bob, Shaun, and Cory, from what I could see – were sporting minor hits. So either Kevin or Peter was the dead guy on the ground. It didn't matter which it was; it was _someone_ on the Joker's team.

I surveyed the other side, and my eyes widened. All nine of Mr. Frost's men were on the ground with blood seeping from head or chest wounds, all of them fatal. Mr. Frost seemed to have disappeared, same with the Joker.

When I realized that, I felt my gut clench with fear. Where was the Clown Prince of Crime? Surely he hadn't been shot and killed. The only way he could hide from my vision was if he was behind a pillar, but if he were on the ground, I'd see a leg or arm sticking out.

I heard a startled cry and turned my head to see Frost being slammed against the wall, near where I had appeared. A pillar blocked the one who had attacked him, but I had my speculation which was confirmed when I saw a purple gloved hand sticking a blade into Frost's mouth.

I heard and recognized the sound of the Joker's voice, but from where I was, I couldn't make out what he was saying to the frightened Mobster. The fear was obviously growing on Mr. Frost's face as the Joker continued to talk to him. Whatever the Joker was going to do, I didn't want to know.

I was about to turn my attention back to the wounded Rottweiler when the Joker giggled excitedly. "I have to ad-_mit_ that it's been _fun_, Tommy," the Joker said loudly, "And it was a _pleasure_ to _meet_-ah you." I saw Mr. Frost's eyes widened, and then, the Joker's arm jerked out to the side.

I saw the flash of the red blade and the blood flying and had to look away.

I was used to the sight of blood. With a job like mine, you _had_ to be used to it. Professional criminal wasn't a job for weak-stomached people. I wouldn't have flinched if the guy had been shot in the head or something, but a knife…I shivered with revulsion. I wasn't friends with pain; it was too horrid for me to watch something like a switchblade severing someone's cheek.

The wounded Rottweiler whimpered in pain, and I tried to focus but the sight of the knife going through the cheek…

I found that I was breathing heavily, and my hands were shaking. Sweat started to drip down my face as a shiver ran through me, my throat burning. I lifted my arm, wiping my forehead with my sleeve as I leaned over the wounded dog. I reached for the dog's paw, but stopped myself, seeing that my hands were simply too shaky.

Giving up, I climbed to my feet, making the other two dogs whine. Their begging for help struck me to the core, but I still turned and walked away, heading back the way I had come.

I disappeared into the narrow hallway, moving swiftly with the need for fresh air. My chest was burning, my hands shaking, my head throbbing. The purple haze had gone at the sight of the bloodied knife, and the pull of gravity had returned to normal, making me feel heavier than usual.

I didn't hear the rapid footsteps behind me, and I didn't hear a voice. Instead, I felt the hand grabbing my upper arm, and I didn't fight as I was pulled back and turned around.

The Joker's eyes caught mine for a second, and I lowered mine to his necktie, unable to look at him. I saw his mouth twitch, almost forming a pout before smoothing out in a neutral line. He cupped my chin and tipped my head up, forcing me to look into his eyes.

When our eyes met, I felt something click in the back of my mind, but I didn't know what it was. We stared at one another several seconds that felt much longer than they really were. His gaze seemed to be telling me something that his stoical expression was hiding from me. I couldn't read his face, but his eyes…I sensed hidden secrets…secrets that I felt a desire to know. I wanted to _know_!

Our gaze held for another second, and then it broke as I looked away, unable to allow myself to fall under the Joker's spell.

"I need fresh air," I said quietly, turning away. The Joker still had a hold on my arm, and he pulled me back. I looked at him, but avoided his eyes.

The Joker's lips tightened into a very thin line, and then he sighed, relaxing them. He reached into his pocket and held out the Charlie card. Wordlessly, I took it from him.

He held me for another moment before releasing me, almost like he was reluctant to let go.

Slowly at first, I took steps backward, away from me. The Joker watched me without a trace of emotion on his face, but his eyes, even as I increased the distance between us, I could see his eyes flashing with his emotions.

I retreated into the shadows, feeling them cover me as I faded into them. The Joker's expression changed slightly with the emotion of curiosity, and that's when I turned and broke into a run, heading back to the redline, to the greenline, racing up the stairs, and breaking out into the night.

* * *

**Lordlink13: Wow! Fine chapter if I do say so myself. Thank you all for your reviews, and please keep them coming. I'm counting days left of school that I have, and I'm excited. As a senior, I get to sign-out earlier than the other people, in which case I'll have to focus on getting ready for college and all. Fun stuff, but I'm looking forward to more time to work on this story. I'd like to finish it before college starts so that I could focus on that. So far, I hope you guys are really liking it. Keep your side of this bargain, and I'll keep up mine. Signing out...**


	12. Detection

I wandered aimlessly through Gotham's streets, hands in my pockets, thoughts whirling in my head. It began to drizzle. I quickened my pace, but only slowed when I remembered that I didn't have a particular destination.

What was I going to do with myself? Six nights in Gotham City, recruited by the Joker, having nowhere to go. I couldn't leave Gotham City; I knew the Joker would come after me. He wasn't going to leave me alone, which was one of the reasons why I decided to simply join his gang. A thought occurred to me, and even as it passed through my mind, it seemed too strange. Either I was giving myself too much credit or the Joker thought I was special…something _other_ than a typical henchman.

He had admitted that he had never worked with a woman before. He thought I was fun to have around. I amused him. I held secrets that he must be seeking. I didn't understand him and his motives. Was it possible that the madman might not _have_ a motive behind his actions? He just did it, just _went with the flow_?

I shook my head, moving onto another track.

The dogs…it seemed like the Joker had worked with them before. I wouldn't know _when_ since I was still relatively new in Gotham. I could see the Joker liking dogs – like the Mobster had said – particularly hard ones like Rottweilers. Thinking of the past times the Joker looked at me and gave me the impression of a puppy, he and Rottweilers seemed to click together nicely. I wouldn't be surprised to find out that the Joker had taken them in – including the wounded one – and added them to the team.

I stopped on a street corner of an intersection and stood there, eyes glazed as I looked over the roads devoid of cars. The drizzle started to pick up gradually, yet I still stood there, almost lifeless.

I felt the cold seep through my jacket. For a summer night, it was _cold_. Or it could just be my sensitivity since I was born in the middle of the hot season. I ducked my head, remembering how I had spent my birthday alone in my apartment. Twenty-four and alone…sometimes I wonder why I haven't fallen into depression and tried to commit suicide…or _wait_, I know the latter.

I couldn't cause myself pain. Pain and I don't mix.

Shaking my head to clear it of such thoughts, I started walking again, sauntering across the vacant street. I lifted my gaze to the sky for a few moments, letting the heavy drizzle fall on my face and into my eyes before I had to lower my head and wipe my eyes clear.

As I walked, the heavy drizzle grew into pouring rain. I didn't speed up at all, letting myself get soaked. Let me get a cold for this, I didn't care just now. But when the cold had me shivering uncontrollably, I started running, first at a slow jog and then sped up, giving my blood time to start circulating before overdoing it.

I found an abandoned warehouse behind some old apartments, and I allowed myself in, pushing the heavy door open. By the looks of it, the place could have been an old factory. Tarnished machinery and rotting crates were scattered about the main area. Huge lights hung from the roof, which contained many gaps that let in the rain, and parts of it were caving in. Cheery place…

I found a place between two crates and sat down, pressing myself against the wall. For warmth, I curled my legs into my chest, hugged my knees, and placed my head on my knees. I sat there, huddled into myself and waited until my shivering had subsided before I lifted my head and rested my chin on my arms.

I couldn't stay here all night. The Joker was bound to come looking for me eventually, but I had no will to move, no wish to return to him. I felt that there was a deeper meaning that he was keeping me with him. The emotions I had I seen in his eyes, the hidden meaning behind those brown orbs…I shook my head vigorously, refusing to let myself think about it anymore.

Rather than think of something else, I focused on thinking of nothing. Taking deep breaths, I closed my eyes and imagined a black piece of paper, focusing my mind on the whiteness, the nothingness of that paper. Gradually, my mind spilled into concentration on the possibility of a special ability I had.

The chills, the tingling, the purple haze in my sight, the lightness I felt, the merging into shadows…the only thing that could explain that was a special talent, something I had, something I must've _always_ had but was never aware of it until now.

The headaches must be part of it too, I thought as one made its appearance. I rubbed my temples gently as I tried to remember if there was a time that my emotions might have brought on the ability.

Fear during the bank robbery when I had stood in the shadows while the bowler hats had run into the hallway without know that I was standing right by the door. And then tonight when I became angry that that one man had thought to take advantage of me – or he might have thought something else, but that's what I _thought_ he was thinking. Maybe emotions _were_ connected to the ability, but I could still use it even when I'm calm.

I don't know _how_ I summoned it, but the chills flooded through me as I uncurled from my position. Glancing at my hand, I confirmed that it was see-through, haze-like, and shadow-like.

The purple haze followed, and I was able to see in the shadows, like I was shining a flashlight into them. Clear as day.

_Clear as day_…that brought on a curious question.

Did my shadow sight work in the daylight?

I couldn't test that until daylight. Instead, I moved on to me _being_ a shadow.

Gravity's hold was lighter on me, and my hand was see-through. I couldn't be solid, could I? I turned and touched the wall I had leaned against. I felt the cold metal under my hand, and I applied pressure. Nothing happened. I pushed harder, but the wall still didn't yield. Then, I punched it, and besides the pain, my hand didn't go through the wall.

So much for being able to walk through walls, I thought as I rubbed my hurting knuckles.

The punch to the wall also confirmed that as a shadow, I'd still get hurt as much as if I was human. There wasn't any advantage over pain with being a shadow.

The sudden use of terms like _shadow_ and _human_ made me laugh out loud. Me, Shadow, could transform into a shadow being and then return to a human state, a physical state.

I finally composed myself before thinking of what else I could test. Time to test the lightness of gravity's hold. I returned to the human state – ha ha! – and tried jumping as high as I could. I measured the height with one of the crates before altering into my shadow state.

It didn't seem to make much of a difference. I might have jumped an inch or so higher, but that wasn't enough to make me happy. Growling with frustration, I kicked the crate, causing myself pain where the crate didn't move the slightest bit.

What about the teleporting that had occurred last night? Could I even call it 'teleporting'?

I set my feet down on the ground and then thought of being on top of the crates. I waited, thinking it needed time to work, but nothing happened.

I sighed, feeling frustrated and tired. Why bother learning about this ability if I couldn't make it work when I wanted it? Again, in anger, I walked over to the same crate and kicked it again…with my hurt foot.

Tears burst into my eyes as the pain erupted in my foot. I collapsed to the ground and gripped my foot, whimpering in agony.

"Whoa, surely the _first_ time would have taught you not to do it again," a voice said mockingly.

I immediately climbed to my feet, placing more weight on my other foot as I rubbed the tears out of my eyes. "Yeah, well, laugh at my stupidity. Even the best has their moments."

"So very true," the voice replied, coolly.

My eyes narrowed as I cocked my head slightly. I recognized that voice from somewhere.

"You look perplexed, girl."

"Do I know you?"

"Has it really been _that_ long that you don't remember me?" The voice chuckled. "We met almost a week ago. You stalked me, and after you helped me, I gave you directions to your motel."

"Raven?" I _knew_ I recognized that voice. "How'd you find me?"

"Question is: How did _you_ find _me_?"

"Is _this_ where you live?" I asked, taken aback.

"Of _course_ not. I'm a woman, and women tend to like places that are in _much_ better condition than this."

"So why do you think that I found _you_? I wasn't _looking_ for anyone…" I realized that she wasn't anywhere in sight. "Hey, where _are_ you?"

"Around," she replied. "Wanna play hide-and-go-seek?"

"Not in particular." I placed a hand on my hip. "Look, come out and talk to me face-to-face. I want to thank you for something."

"Thank me for _what_? You already thanked me for giving you the directions back to your motel."

"Well, it's related to that, and I haven't thanked you for it yet."

"Oh, all right. Hang on a second." I smirked as I heard someone jumping down from crates, but my smile faltered as I realized that even though I could pinpoint where she was, I couldn't _see_ her.

"Where are you?" I asked, confused.

"You're staring at me."

"Am I?" I squinted, and she chuckled.

"Don't squint, Shadow. Makes you look funny."

I glared where her voice had come from. "What are you, invisible or something?"

"As a matter of fact, I _am_. You're so smart."

"Don't be sarcastic," I grunted. "It's too _late_ for that. C'mon, appear so I can thank you properly."

Raven became visible, and even though I was expecting it, I still took a startled step back. "Happy now?" she asked, a smile on her face. "What is it that you wanted to thank me for?"

"It's quite simple," I said, approaching her. Once I was within range, I cracked her in the jaw. "_That's_ for telling the Joker _where_ I was _located_!" I yelled, angrily.

Raven stumbled back, holding a hand to her jaw. Her eyes flashed angrily, but she took a deep breath, trying to regain calmness.

Seeing her regain control made me angry. I charged at her, punching her in the face and knocking her back again.

"What was _that_ for?" she demanded, irritated.

"That was because I _felt_ like it!" I snapped. She shrieked and attacked me.

It didn't help me that she turned invisible in mid-flight. I could fend off maybe two out of five attacks, at best. Needless to say that she was beating me senseless, or almost since she could easily knock me down. After knocking me down, I'd get back up, only to get knocked down again. It reminded me of the song with the lyrics, "I Get Knocked Down, But I Got Up Again, You're Never Going to Keep Me Down".

Finally, Raven punched me under the chin, and I flew into the air, landing heavily on my back and falling limp. This time, I didn't bother getting to my feet, too busy trying to catch my breath. Raven straddled my waist and held my wrists down on either side of my head. I simply groaned.

"You win…"

"You surrender too easily," she said, irritated. She jerked her head, flipping her hair out of her face before meeting my eyes. "Must be rough with the Joker," she said.

"I've only worked for him two nights," I told her.

"_Two_? But you were with him for six!"

"Tried escaping the first night, was unconscious for three, and then worked for two."

Raven counted that in her head and then nodded in confirmation. "Listen, Shadow, since I've met you, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Oh _no_," I said.

"No, I'm straight. I have a boyfriend, so don't worry. It's just hit me that I've never seen someone with such spirit as you. I mean, you being the Joker, I'm surprised he hasn't killed you yet."

"You and me both," I told her.

"Well, the Joker and my boss are actually associates. I wouldn't say 'friends'; the word is more like…acquaintances. They've done work for one another on and off, and since my boss has been placed in Arkham, I've been keeping that alive by doing favors for the Joker now and then. One of those favors happens to be giving him directions to you. Somehow, he knew you and I had crossed paths."

Raven released my wrists, but I didn't move, simply gazing back at her, listening intensively. "So he owes me a favor, and since I like you and since he _trusts_ you, I'm gonna tell you what he can do to pay me back."

"I don't think he trusts me _that_ much, but go ahead," I said quietly.

Raven hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Now, I'm not so sure…" she said.

"Fine, don't tell me. It doesn't matter. I wasn't going to tell the Joker what's happened since I left him."

"You _left_ him?" She sounded taken aback.

"Just for a few hours. Otherwise, he'd come looking for me himself. Mind getting off me now?" Raven climbed off and got to her feet as I sat up. She stared at me as I jerked my head to the side, cracking my neck. "What?" I demanded when I saw that she was still looking at me.

"You're not going to _try_ getting away from him?" she asked.

"I've tried, and failed. There's a point that someone has to give up because there's no way around their situation." I pushed myself up to my feet and straightened my jacket. "I should probably get back to him now. He might be _worried_." I added a sarcastic tone on 'worried' before turning and waving over my shoulder. "See you around."

"Wait, Shadow, maybe I can help you."

"Nope. Not looking for help," I responded.

"No, I don't mean getting away from the Joker. Despite his callousness, I like the guy. I meant that I could help you with your ability."

I stopped in my tracks, eyes widening. Then, I spun around, facing her. I couldn't fake innocence or ignorance. "How'd you know?"

"That's another part of my own ability. I have a strong sixth sense, and I can sense others' talents, even if they're not…supernatural. For example, besides your unusual ability, I can sense that you're good at solving puzzles and you are a good poker player."

"_Real_-ly?" I said, arching an eyebrow. "Can you sense my emotions too?"

Yes, and usually, I'm able to block them away from my own." I narrowed my eyes. "Which is why I acted irrationally earlier. You were angry, and I could feel it. I was unable to separate it from my own emotion so I attacked you in anger."

"With my anger," I said.

She nodded with a shrug. "Basically," she said.

I shifted my weight, wincing slightly as my hurt foot throbbed. "So let me get this straight. You trust me because I'm like you, having an ability that I didn't know existed, and you're willing to help me for a price."

"The price would be your friendship." I gave her a hard look. "I know that might be a bit difficult since you don't really have the best talent at making friends because you're a quiet person, but I'll be an exception, like the Joker."

"I don't consider the Joker a friend."

"He's your boss, isn't he? You respect him and have given him _some_ trust."

"I trust him not to _kill_ me without a reason."

"Trust is trust, no matter whether it's good or bad," Raven pointed out.

"Fine," I said. "How exactly do you think you're going to help me with my ability if neither of us know what it is?"

"I've been watching you for awhile. You have a basic idea, and some of the tests you've been trying would work better if you had someone to be a bystander, watching you and telling you exactly what you're doing right or wrong. Besides, I have an idea of what you're capable of doing just by having watched you, and my sixth sense helps too."

She grinned and outstretched her hand. "I help you, Shadow, and we can be friends."

I looked at her hand warily. "I feel like there will be a catch in this agreement."

Raven's grin faltered, and she sighed with exasperation.

"I don't take contracts lightly," I explained.

"I can _tell_," she huffed.

I raised my hand. "We'll try it for now, but there's no guarantees on anything."

"None whatsoever," she agreed, clapping her hand with mine, sealing the deal.

* * *

The door slammed shut, and Hunter jumped with surprise. "Peter, don't scare me like that."

"I _enjoy_ scaring you, _Hunter_," Peter said, mockingly.

Hunter glared at him. "The Boss sent you away."

"Of _course_ he did." Peter moved across the room to stand before Hunter – even though no matter what Hunter did, he always was. "Sit down, Hunter, you're looking pale."

Hunter sat down, and Peter seated himself across him in an identical chair. "Is he angry with you?" Hunter asked.

"I don't know," Peter responded. "He's not happy that the girl hasn't returned. It's been a few hours now."

"She should stay away from him. She's bad for his health."

"You're not the only one who cares about the Boss, Hunter."

"I care more than you, Peter," Hunter snapped.

"No, we both know that we care about him the same amount. Don't go claiming that you care more than I. We've both been around him for a few years, even if we never showed our faces to the public."

"_I_ show mine."

"And I show mine. But not as often as the Boss used to let us. He doesn't even know your true existence. If that girl says anything…"

Fury flooded through Hunter, and he slammed his fist on the arm of his chair. "That _woman_!" he growled. "The Boss hasn't so much as _looked_ at me without looking angry. He's _never_ been that angry with me before."

"You know he's dangerous when his moods are wacked out."

"I know as well as you do, Peter." Hunter sighed and leaned back in his chair. Peter did the same. "I don't like that woman…"

"I know you don't. It's quite obvious. Particularly when you went off to find her in the park and warned her off. Did she listen to you, _no_!"

"She _did_ listen to her. The Boss caught her before she could go anywhere. She could have died had I not nursed her back to health."

"Only because the Boss was watching your every move. He doesn't trust you anymore than he trusts me."

"I _know_ that," Hunter snapped. "You don't need to keep telling me that."

"Actually, I think you _need_ to be reminded sometimes, Hunter. You get so wound up wherever the Boss is concerned."

"And you're the clear-headed one?"

Peter smirked. "Of _course_," he said, charmingly.

Hunter waved an impatient hand at him. "You're so full of yourself."

"Just as much as you are of the Boss."

The door burst open again, and both Hunter and Peter jumped in fright. The rest of the Boss's men – Bob, Shaun, Cory (the only surviving new guy), and Dave – entered, talking loudly. Hunter glared at Dave, wondering why he had been here while the Boss had been out on business with his guys and with the red-haired woman.

"Kevin didn't survive one night," Peter snickered.

"Be _quiet_," Hunter whispered harshly to him. "Don't let them know we're here."

"Why not? They're our pals, aren't they?" Peter asked.

Hunter glared at him. "Don't _tease_ me," he murmured.

"Hey, Peter," Bob said. Peter got to his feet, as did Hunter. Shaun and Cory looked surprised that they had seemed to appear out of nowhere from the dark corner of the room, but Dave and Bob looked impassive.

"What?" Peter demanded, sharply.

Bob glared at him. "I don't like your tone, Peter, but that's not my problem. Boss wants you, and he doesn't seem very happy."

"Is he _ever_?" Peter murmured under his breath, and Hunter's eyes widened in surprise. "Fine," Peter said to Bob. He walked up to him and shouldered him as he passed. Bob turned to glare at him, taking no notice of Hunter who walked in Peter's awake like a terrified mouse. In fact, none of the guys took notice of Hunter, their focus all on Peter.

Peter closed the door, holding the doorknob for a bit longer. "One of these days, Bob will learn," he said darkly before heading down the hallway. Wordlessly, Hunter followed him.

* * *

A howl of pain escaped my lips as I slammed head-first into a heap of boxes. I was buried alive underneath the ones under the boxes that I had collided with, and I cried out, covering my head with my arms. At least they were cardboard so they didn't hurt that much, except for a few that hit me with their sharp corners.

"Hey, Shadow, are you okay?" Raven called from outside.

I lied there amongst the scattered boxes, jerking my head away from wet, rotting parts of the cardboard.

"I hear movement. You alive?"

"Yeah. Mind unburying me?"

"Get yourself out," she said, strictly.

I sighed and remained where I was.

For the past few hours, I had experimented with my ability of _shadowing_, a name I had stolen from the Joker when I had first did it with him. I wanted a good name for my ability, not an overused word like _transporting_ and _teleporting_.

With Raven's help, I was able to discover exactly how I could shadow. The only way to describe it was that I just _did_ it. Harder than it sounds, but I guess it's more of a thought in my head, and I'm off, shadowing from one place to the next. Sorta like _jumping_ in the book/movie _Jumper_. Only I can only shadow through shadows that are existent, and a limit to that is I can't use my own.

Raven and I tried it with and without a second person along. I can shadow with someone or with something. I can shadow along what I'm thinking of or what the other person is thinking of. Unknown destinations don't work so I had I know where I was going before I did it, but if I just thought of one little detail, I could shadow somewhere.

Even though I couldn't shadow using my own, I could still use my shadow to locate things. I moved my shadow to different places and pulled myself there, which is basically how I shadowed from place to place. Like merging in with shadows, I could consciously merge with my shadow and walk around, but that left my physical body in a sort of trance, where it was still able to defend itself, but not as well as if it was me. _That_ freaked me out when I first realized what had happened.

Along with shadowing, I had the shadow state, which provided me with faster reflexes and sharper senses. I tried the jumping test again for Raven, and she agreed with me that the lighter gravity pull didn't do much. However, she had me stand at one end of the warehouse, run as fast as I could, and jump.

When I did, I nearly smashed my face into the side of the warehouse, twenty feet off the ground. The gravity pull had the usual pull when straight up and down, but sideways, I could use it against others. I tried the vertical jump again, but this time with an angle, and I _did_ jump higher and farther than usual.

"Shadow, are you going to come out anytime soon?"

"I'm tired," I groaned. "You've used all my energy with shadowing."

"Well, at least I was able to help you, Shadow. It makes me happy to help out a friend."

"Is the Joker your friend?"

"An acquaintance," she responded, gruffly. "Do I have to come in there or can you get out yourself?"

"I _did_ ask you earlier to help me. I'll do half the work," I promised. I heard her heave a sigh as she approached. When I heard her moving cardboard boxes, I started pushing my way out. I stuck out my hand, and she grabbed it, yanking me out. "Thanks," I said.

"Anytime," Raven replied. "What time is it?"

I glanced at my watch as I flattened my hair. "Almost three in the morning."

"Listen, go home and I'll get contact to you again," Raven said. She smiled. "It's nice to have a gal pal in a city like this."

I looked at her, allowing only minimal surprise appear on my face. Gal pal? I've never had a close girlfriend in my entire life. My best friend was a boy, and he was the only one I really felt comfortable with outside of my family.

Raven seemed to be watching me, waiting for a reply. I smiled and said, "Yeah, I didn't think I'd meet someone like you here in Gotham City."

"We're rare people," she said, casually. She flipped her hair out of her face and smiled. "I'll see you around then, Shadow."

"Yeah, see you." She vanished from sight, and I could hear her footsteps as she ran out into the rain.

I walked over to the open door and shivered at the sight of the rain. While Raven and I had were busy being friends and testing my ability, the rain had formed puddles everywhere, and I was already soaked because of accidentally shadowing under the holes in the old roof of the warehouse. Without much activity, I shivered as the cold seeped into my body.

I was convinced that the only thing that would warm me would be a nice hot shower, and I mean _hot_!

I shadowed to the Joker's apartment, appearing right outside the door as the silver Volvo drove out of the small parking spot by the alleyway. The door was unlocked. Grinning at the thought that the Joker had _just_ missed me, I let myself in.

Compared to outside, the inside of the apartment was only the slightest bit warmer, but at least it was drier. I wandered over to the stairs, my wet Skechers squeaking quietly on the floor. Wearily, I climbed the stairs, holding onto the metal banister in case my shoes were so wet that they might cause me to slip. With all the bruises I had from slamming against walls and crates, I was already sore enough that I would simply _cry_ if I slipped and hurt myself.

I reached the floor that the Joker's room was on, and I felt so tired that I just wanted to sit down and sleep. The stairs wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep so I forced myself onward, heading straight into my boss's room.

"Decided to, ah, to come _home_?"

I sighed, exhausted. So much for that funny thought of him missing me as I returned and he left. "Sorry," I mumbled. "Got lost."

The Joker bounced off the bed, bounding toward me, and slamming me against the closed door. His green-tinted hair fell before his eyes, but he gave a slight toss of his head to move the strands to the side. He held his switchblade to my neck, but I was so tired that I simply stared at him, my mind barely comprehending that he was threatening to hurt me.

"I let-ah you _go_. I ex-_pec_-ted you back _sooner_."

"You didn't give me a curfew," I told him. I winced as he applied pressure to his switchblade. "Since when were you my dad?" I asked, knowing I was risking my life with the question.

The Joker looked furious, his eyes burning into mine. His tongue flickered out irritated over his lips before he removed his switchblade from my neck. He pushed his hair back with a hand as he snapped his knife closed, taking a few steps back. "Curfew is one thirty, _unless_ I'm with you. Got it?"

I didn't respond. Instead, I gave him the cold shoulder, walking toward the bathroom and closing the door behind me, locking it from inside.

I expected him to come after me, but I didn't bother waiting for him. I turned on the shower to let the water warm up while I undressed. The heated water hitting my cold skin felt good, relaxing, comforting. I took my time, allowing my body enough time to thaw out.

When I shut off the water, it suddenly hit me that I hadn't grabbed any clothes to change into for the night. I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself up in a towel. Being exhausted, it took until I had my hand on the doorknob that I noticed the set of clothing waiting for me on the sink counter.

Dried off and dressed, I left the bathroom, flicking off the light as I exited.

The bedroom didn't have a light on, but with my shadow sight, I could see that the Joker was lying awake on the bed with one arm over his chest and the other behind his head. Without a word, I walked over to my side of the bed and slipped under the covers, turning my back to him. As I drifted off, I thought I felt a touch on my head, but I couldn't be sure.

* * *

**Lordlink13: Phew! Another chapter done, and my dear readers, now you know what Shadow's secret ability is that's been emerging gradually throughout the story so far. I'm glad people are enjoying this. **Sinario**, get better soon. Cold's are a waste of time, and healthiness. Well, I'm off to prepare for my last few weeks of school, and for other chapters. Can't wait until I'm out so I can focus more on this story. I'd like to finish it before college starts for me. Well, tah-tah for now! And don't forget to review!...and sorry for the no page breaks, **Sin** was kind enough to tell me about them.****  
**


	13. Possession

It was no surprise to find myself waking up again at night. With a glance at my wristwatch, I confirmed the time, being nine twenty-seven. I heaved a sigh and turned over onto my stomach, hugging my pillow. I've been with the Joker for seven days, an entire week. Within that time, I was able to establish work under him, and I've made friends with Raven, a criminal like myself who has a supernatural ability too. What a _progress_!

Why couldn't I have learned about my shadowing ability _before_ the Joker had caught me? I'd be _long_ gone now. I wouldn't be lying in his bed every night if I hadn't gotten caught by him.

Speaking of the Joker, I looked over my shoulder to find that his side of the bed was vacant. I had the urge to try and go back to sleep, but I was rested. I turned over again and sat up, raking my hands through my hair to comb it. With a sigh, I hit the blankets with my hands, looking around the room.

Some clothing was set out for me at the foot of the bed. I shook my head in disbelief. Surely the Joker was still angry with me about coming home late last night, right? Deciding not to question it for now, I pulled on the Joker's chosen clothing and then left the bedroom, wondering where I might find him.

Befriending Raven had brought something to my attention. Who were the other criminal masterminds in Gotham City? I knew their names: the Riddler, Catwoman, the Penguin, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze, and Scarecrow; I just knew next to _nothing_ about them. I figured that since the Joker was one of them, he would know about them, possibly had connections with them. It only made sense. The Mob worked for one another occasionally, and in a tight spot, they would either turn to others or simply play out on their own. The idea of criminals was the same around; it just depended on the actual criminal of how they were going to roll.

Having the freedom to move about the place without the Joker as my chaperone was nice. Since I still wasn't used to it, I walked stealthily, moving along the edge of the hallway to avoid the creaks of the floor.

Each door I came to, I pressed my ear against it, listening to silence, snores, or the noisy room where I assumed was the chosen place for the Joker's men to hang out and yell at the television. Again with the yelling at the television where the sport players wouldn't hear them. Don't pay attention to my prejudices. I just rolled my eyes and continued on.

I finally reached the stairs and debated whether or not to go up or down. I didn't know what was upstairs so I stuck with the known first and went downstairs.

As I stepped onto the first floor, I heard a yip of pain, followed by a whimper. It sounded like the wounded dog, and I followed my ears, locating the whine coming from the kitchen. I approached the kitchen to find two of the Rottweilers waiting outside, one giving the door a low growl while the other one looked like it was going to die if it had to keep listening to the wounded one cry in pain.

I walked over, and both Rottweilers noticed me. The one that looked like it was in agony padded toward me heavily, its tail drooping, and it whined as it reached me. I rubbed its – _his_ – ears, head, and neck to comfort him. The other one – another he – stopped growling long enough to give me a long whine before tightening as the Rottweiler inside whimpered loudly.

I slipped into the kitchen, figuring that whoever was taking care of the wounded dog didn't want the other two inside, so I made sure that the door was closed behind me.

The wounded Rottweiler was whimpering on the table counter, lying on its – didn't know the gender yet – side with its head on a pillow. Bandages, bloodied cloths, bloodied instruments, and other surgical-looking items were scattered by the dog's legs. There was even a needle and threat.

The Joker stood over the dog, rubbing a cloth on the wound on its leg. He was humming a soft tune, one that I couldn't identify, but it seemed to calm the dog enough to keep it from crying loudly.

"Okay, girl, hang in there," the Joker murmured as he tossed the cloth he was using. I watched him quietly as he prepared the needle and threat. The dog whimpered, as if anticipating what was going to happen. "Sh-sh-sh," the Joker hushed her, rubbing her head. The dog started shaking.

"Shadow, be a good girl and, ah, _talk_ to her," the Joker said, without looking up at me. I moved forward, and the dog turned her head, seeing me and whimpering, struggling to get up.

"No, girl," I said, applying pressure on her, keeping her on the counter. The dog continued to fight. "C'mon, Scout, _lie down_." The dog looked at me, and then lied back down, her black eyes watching me. I smiled, rubbing her ears, and looked up.

The Joker stared at me from under his brow. He was holding the needle ready to stitch up the Rottweiler's wound, but he was frozen, staring at me in disbelief. "Scout?" he repeated, a confused note in his voice.

I nodded. "Scout," I confirmed. "And the other two are Prince and Buddy."

A small smile crept onto his scarred lips. "Which is which?" he asked.

"The one whining out there is Prince, and the other-."

"The one who's al-_ready_ tried to, ah, to _bite_ my leg," the Joker said, disgusted.

"That's Buddy."

The Joker nodded as he began stitching up Scout's leg. Her eyes squinted slightly, but she didn't whimper; her attention focused on me. I assumed that the Joker had numbed her leg from feeling so he would have an easier time keeping her calm.

"So…it's _official_?" the Joker asked.

"I wanted to make sure that you didn't throw them out into the streets," I said.

He looked up from his work, giving me an injured look. "I'll admit-ah that if they were _cats_, I'd have gotten _rid_ of them, but I _like_ dogs. Man's best-ah _friend_. There has _only_ been _one_ cat-ah that I've liked, but I _still_ like dogs best." The Joker grinned and rubbed Scout's head affectionately. "There," he said, returning to his work, "You know _one_ secret-ah that I have."

"If I turned on you, I couldn't really use that piece of information against you," I told him. "I'll make it fair. I love dogs too, Rottweilers in particular. I've always dreamed of having one, and having three now is just…like my dream come true _three_ times over simultaneously."

The Joker started giggling as he tied off the stitches. "What-ah _else_?" he asked, his brown eyes twinkling with curiosity.

I grinned and shook my head. "Naughty naughty, give me something and I'll pay you back."

"Who said _I_ had, ah, to start?"

"You told me something first, and it doesn't work if I start this round, _unless_ we alternate each time."

The Joker burst out laughing like what I had said was absurd. "No-no, Shadow, that's _not_-ah how _I_ do things."

"What if I ask a question and you answer it?"

"Just did." I shook my head, smiling in spite of myself. The Joker looked up at me as he bandaged Scout's foot to keep her from chewing at the stitches. "Fine," he said, "Another try at a question."

I watched him as he worked gingerly with Scout, rubbing her head but giving her a sharp tap on the nose when she tried to gnaw the bandage. He even threatened to give her the "cone of shame", which made me laugh. As I read his expression, I could tell that he was proud of himself for something, probably for making me laugh, which I've noticed I've done it more often. Seven days with him and I was laughing more than I had in a year – and that doesn't count all the fake laughs I've given.

"Are you gonna, ah, _ask_ your _ques_-tion?" the Joker pressed. I blinked, distracted out of my thoughts, and I shook my head to clear it. "Changed your mind?"

"No," I said.

The Joker rubbed Scout's head, allowing her to lick his hand a bit before picking her up and placing her on the ground. Scout whimpered the first time she put weight on her hurt foot, and she looked up at the Joker, a pleading look in her black eyes. He cocked his head at her and issued a low growl. She headed toward the door, taking careful steps, and he followed to open the door for her. He closed it behind her, and he stood staring at me while we listened to the barks of relief from the two male Rottweilers outside.

The Joker and I stared at one another in silence, he cocking his head to the side, me with my head parallel to my shoulder, sitting at the counter. Then, the Joker licked his lips, and a question popped into my head.

"You said that your father gave you the scars," I began, "Yet I feel like that's only _half_ the story…"

I didn't get any farther because the Joker leaped at me, yanking me off the stool and throwing me against the wall, the switchblade by my ear. One hand gripped my chin; the other – with the switchblade – held the side of my head. The Joker's eyes burned with either fury or hatred, I couldn't tell, but he looked like he was ready to kill me if his glare didn't.

"Is _that_-ah what your _ques_-tion is, _Shadow_?" he growled. "What's the story about-ah your _other_ scar? Well, you're ob-_ser_-vant-ah." He slid the switchblade along his left scar. "This one was from my father, but _this_ one…" A jerk of the knife brought it to his right cheek, jabbing the other half of his Glasgow grin. "…has its _own_ story.

"See, I had this _girl_-friend, blonde, innocent, _beautiful_. She didn't-ah like violence; she hated scary movies. She had an _immense_ fear of the sight-ah of blood. But she was _gorge_-ous, such a _loving_ girl, so young. I _worshipped_ her, valued her more than _any_-thing I owned. I'd give her presents. I'd take her out-ah to the _best_ restaurants I could find, with the money I had, which wasn't-ah much. That girl…I'd do _anything_ for her, to make her _happy_.

"But, I was getting too deep-ah. I couldn't-ah keep a job for more than two _weeks_. Jobs were hard to, ah, to find. _So_…I turned to crime, joined a gang. I stole, I killed, I _gambled_. I had the _luck_ of the wild card. I was the best-ah; it wasn't hard to, ah, to gain a higher position within the gang. _Some_-one didn't-ah _like_ that.

"One day, on the way home, I was _jumped_. I lost-ah a small gift I had bought for my girl, a pair of emerald earrings to, ah, to match her _eyes_." The Joker paused, his eyes glazing with the memory. "I went home empty-handed, planning to take my girl out-ah to dinner to make up for the _lost_ earrings. But when I got home…" The Joker shook his head slowly, his expression turning to anger. "What a sur-_prise_ I found, just _wait_-ing for me."

Hatred lit his eyes, and his grip on me tightened painfully, like he intended to crush my chin in his fist. I whimpered quietly and he eased a bit but not by much. His eyes met mine, burning with fury. "All the things I had _done_ for her, the gifts, the love, the money, _everything_…it was not-ah _good_ enough. _I_ wasn't _good_ enough for her." His voice had hardened into a savage growl. He wasn't looking at me, but as his body tightened in angry, I felt afraid. "I went-ah home to find my girl, my _Jean_-nie, in _another_. _Man's_. _Arms_. I wasn't going to let-ah her get _away_ with that. Es-_peci_-ally. Not-ah. _Him_."

The Joker's body was shaking in rage, and his grip on my head slipped back, pulling his gloves and exposing his wrists. I felt them brush my cheek, and I looked into his hatred-filled brown eyes, feeling a strange pull. I didn't fight my headache as it burst forth into existence, closing my eyes as I felt pulled into the hated memory.

When I opened my eyes, I knew instantly that I was looking through the Joker's eyes, witnessing how his past had played. I had become him, within his memory.

_I entered the narrow hall of our apartment, closing the door quietly behind me, locking and bolting it. I heard classical music playing from the living room, which made me smile. Jeannie wouldn't have heard me come home; I could still surprise her. Excited, I moved down the hallway, careful to make my approach quiet._

_I moved into the doorway, readying to shout out and tell her that I was home. But the sight of her made me halt, dumbstruck._

_She was dancing to the classical music…with my gang leader, Jasper. She moved so gracefully in his arms as they danced around the room. Her body movements were sexual, lifting her arms up and allowing Jasper to grope her and kiss her soft skin._

_It made me _sick_!_

_Burning with hatred and fury, I reached into a table drawer and pulled out a gun I had hidden there. I fired the gun, hitting him in the shoulder and knocking him away from her._

_Jeannie screamed at the gunshot, and increased in volume as I fired again at the gang leader, this time getting him in the side. Three bullets hit the stereo, causing it to spark dangerously. Jasper reached for his gun in his pocket, but I shot him a third time, knocking him down onto the ground on his back._

_I moved into the room, toward Jeannie, and she shrieked when she saw me. Without a word, I gripped her wrist and pulled her roughly out into the hallway. She continued to scream, and she struggled against my hold. I let her go, heading into the bathroom alone._

_I slammed open the mirror, shattering the glass, ignoring it as it slashed across my face. I didn't care about the minor pain and the blood. I reached in and took the first sharp object my hands fell on, a razor._

_Jeannie shrieked as I appeared down the hallway. I started toward her, but stepped back as a bullet shot into the wall by my head. I charged at Jasper, slamming into him and bringing him down to the ground. Angrily, I knocked his gun out of his hand, and I punched him several times before hovering over him, razor in my hand._

"_You've stepped _beyond_ the limit-ah, Jasper," I growled as I pushed the razor into his cheek._

_Pain burst in the back of my head as red and black dots flashed in my vision. I dropped off of Jasper, landing heavily on the ground, a hand reaching to the back of my head. I touched a sticking fluid and only registered it as blood._

_Jasper straddled me and started beating me. Jeannie screamed for him to stop, trying to pull him off me. My hands came up to defend me, but I felt every punch, every blow. The blood flowed…the pain subsided…I felt nothing but anger…_hatred_._

_Through the hatred, I shoved Jasper off me, and I rolled onto him, holding my gun to his head. Revenge burned in me, screaming for blood, for pain. I pulled the trigger, watching the blood shoot out._

_Jeannie screamed for help in the hallway and I heard her struggle with the door. I climbed to my feet, picking up the razor and sauntering into the hallway. Jeannie heard my footsteps on the floor, and she pounded on the door, crying, begging. I reached her and spun her around to face me, pushing her against the door._

_She kneed me in desperation, and as I stepped back, laughing the pain off, she turned back and banged against the door. I pulled her away from it and threw her to the ground. She collapsed and started to pick herself up, but she stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide as I approached her slowly._

_I loomed over her, and she took in the look on my face and burst into sobs. I crouched down before her and grabbed her chin, none too gently, forcing her to meet my eyes._

"_Sh-sh-sh," I hushed her, stroking her cheek with the back of my free hand. "No need to, ah, to _cry_ when you're the _betrayer_."_

"_I'm sorry," she cried, but I cut her off._

"_Sorry doesn't _cut_ it," I growled, menacingly, and she fell into a quiet sob. "But you know what _does_ cut it?" I grabbed her hand and placed the razor in it. "Something that's sharp."_

_She looked at me with a horrified expression, a look that sent shivers of pleasure through me. I could smell her fear, it was so thick. I gripped her hand that held the razor and brought it close to her face._

"_Please, don't-," she pleaded._

"_Did I say it was for _you_?" I demanded harshly, silencing her. "How 'bout giving my _lone-_ly scar here a _friend_, Jeannie? As a parting gift to me?"_

_As she widened her eyes, I placed the razor inside my mouth, tightening my grasp on her hand, and as she opened hers to protest, I jerked her hand to my right, moving the razor and slicing through my cheek, skin and nerves altogether._

_The agony brought a blood red haze before my eyes. Jeannie's scream rung in my head, music to my ears. I gurgled on the flow of blood, but it didn't matter._

_Even through the agony and the haze, I could feel Jeannie losing it. Her fear of blood – upon seeing it spilling from my mouth – was driving her insane! I pulled her to her feet and yanked her into the living room. I forced Jeannie before me and held her to me to keep her from turning away as I fired the gun several times at Jasper's dead body._

_Jeannie screamed endlessly at the flow of bright red blood. I threw her to the ground, where she landed near her dead partner. She looked at me and continued shrieking at the top of her lungs._

_And I was grinning! I enjoyed this, the fear, the blood, the pain, the power. Adrenaline rushed through my veins, and I just stood there, smiling without much effort._

_Pure insanity appeared in Jeannie's eyes, and I cocked my head. "Well, Jeannie," I said with difficulty and much pain. "What doesn't kill you makes you stranger, right?"_

"_You're a monster," she shrieked._

_Despite the pain, I grinned, the muscles in my face tearing. "No, Jeannie. I'm just ahead of the curve." She only stared at me as I cocked the gun one more time and fired, shooting her in the head._

I pulled myself from the awful memory, shuddering with the aftereffects, feeling the Joker's anger and madness linger inside me. It took me a moment to realize that the Joker was no longer holding me against the wall, but rather was standing several steps away, gripping his head with a hand, his eyes squeezed shut, his expression in a grimace like he was in pain. His switchblade remained in his other hand, which was hanging by his side.

"Mister J?" I said quietly, slowly. He didn't reply, just applied more pressure on his head. "Joker?" I repeated, a bit louder. The Joker opened his eyes slowly, narrowing them at the floor. I took a cautious step forward, and when he didn't react any farther, I took another.

The Joker's head shot up, and he moved so fast that the only way I could have registered what he did was to use my shadow. I ducked just in time and heard a _thump_ behind me. Cautiously, I glanced over my shoulder to see his switchblade stuck in the wall, its handle still trembling.

With wide eyes, I looked back at the Joker, and again he moved, this time to push me against the wall again, bringing my head right next to the vibrating switchblade.

"What. Did. You. _Do_?" he demanded through clenched teeth. His eyes burned into mine, shooting cold fear through my being. He didn't touch me, his hands were off to the side, pressed against the wall; but I felt myself hurting. "_Tell_ me, Shadow!" the Joker yelled.

I was so scared that I couldn't come up with a lie. "It's a special _ability_ that I have," I said, frightened.

He grabbed my chin roughly, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "What. Ability?" he growled.

I told him. It was difficult to explain it to him while he was scaring me half to death, but I managed to tell him about figuring that if I had ability, I should learn to use it. I told him about Raven and how she helped me learn to control my shadowing, and how to use my shadow state of being. He didn't seem to calm down until I had told him that, but he grew angry again, telling me in a growl that I hadn't explained what I had _just_ did to him.

"I'm not really sure," I said in reply. "I think it might have to do with my shadow ability too. Like shadows are memories, shadows of the past. I don't know how I did it, but I think I went into your memory of…of what had happened to you."

The Joker looked at me suspiciously. "What-ah _exactly_ did you see?" he asked.

"It wasn't what I just _saw_," I replied, honestly. "I _know_."

Horror flashed in his eyes and across his painted face, something I didn't understand. What was there that the Joker didn't want me to know, besides the obvious – being his identity?

"What-ah do you know?" Was I imagining things or was his voice shaky as he spoke, like his terror of me knowing something about him was _real_?

"Your girlfriend's name was Jeannie. The man who didn't like you rising higher in the gang was Jasper. You used a razor and drove Jeannie insane because of the sight of blood. I felt the pain, your hatred, your anger, your _hurt_." I saw something else cross the Joker's face, but I looked away, unable to watch his emotions when I had understood them so well only minutes before, when I had seen his memory. "I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I won't do it again, if I can help it."

"That's the _thing_." He cupped my chin and forced me to look at him. This time, his emotions were only in his eyes. "After being with you for a, ah, a week, I al-_ready_ know that-ah you _can't_ _help it_." I stared at him, afraid he'll try to hurt me again, but this time, he chuckled and pulled me into an embrace.

I didn't know how to react so I didn't, besides tightening against him. His laughter rippled through his body, and I felt it, still unsure of what I was supposed to do. Did I hug him back or no? Was he just hugging me to retrieve his switchblade so he could backstab me? That caused me to twist my head to search for the switchblade, but it was still there in the wall.

The Joker released me and placed his hands on my shoulders, grinning. "Caught yah by _surprise_, didn't-ah I?" I only nodded, mutely. Abruptly, he grabbed his switchblade, yanking it out of the wall. I flinched, stepping away from him and retreating toward the kitchen door.

The Joker laughed at my frightened reaction. "You don't-ah _trust_ me anymore?" he asked, clicking closed his knife before pocketing it.

"Who _would_ after you have major bipolar issues?" I demanded, my voice high with hysteria. The Joker looked at me as he grabbed his jacket from one of the kitchen counters. He slipped his arms into it as he sauntered toward me. I retreated again, but then, he caught up to me, pulling me into a half embrace with one arm around my waist while his hand brushed my hair back gently.

"So high-_strung_," he giggled. "And I'm not-ah the _only_ one with bipolar _issues_." He laughed as he pulled me away from the door so he could open it. Despite my protest, the Joker towed me toward the stairs where he shifted his grasp to my upper arm so he could run upstairs. I had the option of either tripping on the stairs or running after him. Since it was less painful, not to mention 'easier', I chose the latter.

I followed the Joker upstairs and wondered where he was taking me. I hadn't really seen much of the apartment building, having explored it a little earlier in search of the clown, so I had limited knowledge of the place. As we neared the floor his bedroom was on, I prepared myself, but the Joker surprised me. We continued running up the steps, stopping on the next landing up.

"_Pe_-ter!" the Joker bellowed at the top of his lungs. Being next to him, my ears rung painfully, and I winced as the Joker pulled me into him, keeping me from escaping.

There was a loud bang, and one of the doors down the hallway burst open. Peter popped out, looking wild as his boss had called him so abruptly and so close. "Yes, boss?" he said, his voice slightly uneven from the fright.

"I need the laptop," the Joker stated.

"Um, Bleak has it."

The Joker narrowed his eyes and turned his head slightly. "_Real_-ly? Bleak's come _home_?" he questioned, and Peter nodded. "In his room?" Again, the other man gave him a nod. "Would the _rest_-ah of the e-_quip_-ment be with him?"

"Yes, boss," Peter said. "He's using it to-."

"I _know_ what he _uses_ it for!" the Joker yelled, annoyed. "Go walk the dogs." Peter hesitated, his eyes shifting uneasily in my direction. The Joker glared at him. "_Move_, Peter. Don't-ah make me say it ah-_gain_."

"I'm on it, boss," Peter said, jerking as if he had been distracted – by me? – and obediently, he moved, walking past us in a wide circle to avoid being too close to us. I cranked my neck to watch him, making sure he was headed down the stairs we had just come up.

"C'mon, I guess I'll _introduce_ you," the Joker said, pulling me down the hallway. He knocked solidly on a door and waited with me beside him until the door opened.

I stifled a gasp as my eyes widened in shock. The man who had opened the door was the guy who had aided me in my escape from The Stacked Deck, the night after I had first met the Joker, my second night; it was Ron! The only difference was his left eye was bruised.

"Hi, boss," Ron greeted, managing a slight grin.

"Long time no _see_, Bleak," the Joker said, cheerfully. "Didn't I tell you to, ah, to _avoid_ starting fights?"

"I didn't start it. I _finished_ it."

The Joker burst out laughing as he released me to clap Ron on the shoulder. "Sure ya did, sure ya did." A second passed, and the Joker had Ron against the doorframe in a flash, a knife to his chin. "Where've ya _been_?" he demanded, his voice hard.

"Yah know, the usual," Ron shrugged, carelessly. "Went after a guy who owed me money. Got the money, and he decided to take his guys and jump me later. Hence the eye." He gestured casually at his black eye.

The Joker's expression had softened into curiosity. "How many?" he asked.

"Total? Five. The guy who owed me ran off when he saw that I was winning."

The Joker released Ron slowly, his eyes becoming distant, and a strange look appeared on his face. However, when he looked over at me, his eyes focused and a grin stretched across his scarred lips. "What's the guy's name?" he asked Ron, though he didn't take his eyes off me, making me feel self-conscious.

"Tyler Samson. Why?"

The Joker whipped his head around so fast to look at Ron that I feared that he might break his neck. Instead, he just cracked it loudly and seemed not to notice. "Ya need the laptop?" he asked.

"No, I'm done. Why?"

"Leave the 'whys' for the _Rid_-dler, Bleak. You know the guy's address?" Ron started to look suspicious, and upon seeing it, the Joker grabbed the front of Ron's jacket and pulled him close so that they were face-to-face. "Don't-ah _question_ me, Bleak. After working for me for, ah, for a year, by now, you'd _know_ not-ah to _do_ _that_. Get the laptop and tell Shadow here the guy's address!"

"Why do _I_ need to know the guy's address?" I demanded, startled by this. The Joker gave me a look, but he didn't release Ron just yet. "You want me to go to _visit_ this guy, Tyler Samson? Why the heck would you have _me_ do that? Just send-." I caught the look Ron was throwing me, and stopped myself from saying the name he had given me, realizing that the Joker might assume Ron's the one who hit him and might decide to kill him right in front of me. "-_Bleak_ to go visit his _own_ guy!" I finished.

"But _Sha_-dow," the Joker drawled, releasing Ron and stepping toward me. Nervously, I took a step back to his step forward. He noticed my movement and continued until I had bumped into the wall, unable to go any farther. The Joker halted with only an inch between us, his face looming close to mine, his hands against the wall on either side of my head. He slid out his tongue slowly over his bottom lip, wetting it. "Bleak," he said, "Go set up the tech room," the Joker ordered, his eyes on mine.

"Um, okay." Ron sounded worried, but I couldn't take my eyes away from the Joker or he would suspect something. The Joker waited until Ron had left before he spoke again.

He cupped my chin with a hand, narrowing his eyes slightly. "You have this, ah, _rebellious_ streak in you, Shadow. I _like_ that-ah, _but_-ah…there are _times_ that I _don't_-ah. _Like_. _It_." He moved his face away, closing his eyes tightly like he was irritated. I shrunk from him, pressing myself tightly against the wall. He felt my movement and opened his eyes, looking at me curiously. "Scared of me, Shadow?"

"No, not of you," I said, plainly.

The Joker narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth, about to say something when Ron yelled, "It's all set up for you, boss!"

The Joker turned his head and glared at Ron who was hanging out of the door, expectantly. "Can't you _see_ that I'm _busy_?" he growled angrily.

Ron gave him an apologetic look. "Gee, sorry, boss. Thought you were right behind me."

"Get out of here!" the Joker said, offhandedly. Ron threw a wink in my direction as he walked toward us to move around. The Joker swung his arm out to hit him, but Ron ducked just in time and skipped down the hallway before slowly and turning around, walking backwards.

"Missed again, boss," Ron called. The Joker reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun, aiming and pulling the trigger. A startled cry escaped my lips as the bullet bounced off the floor at Ron's feet, and Ron jumped, a surprised expression on his face.

"I won't-ah _miss_ next time," the Joker growled, threateningly.

Ron turned and ran down the stairs two steps at a time.

"I al-_ready_ have a rebel," the Joker murmured as he grabbed my arm and started toward the room Ron had left, pulling me along behind him.

The tech room – as the Joker had called it – was indeed a _tech_ room. Of course, it wasn't like the high-quality or like what the cops or the FBI would have, but it was a tech room. It was small, maybe six by six feet with a desk, a swivel chair, and even a small cot on the floor, as if someone slept in this room. There were three TV screens with connecting wires sitting on the main part of the desk. They were all connected to a black laptop which sat waiting to be used. The room had a window, but a dark shade covered it, making the room dark besides the light coming from the laptop screen.

The Joker pulled me inside and closed the door, locking it, bolting it, and chaining it. It made me wonder if the Joker was the one who slept in this room from time to time to escape his men so that he didn't have to worry about being disturbed. I searched the wall for a light switch and found one, but when I flicked it on, no light came.

"No lightbulb, no wiring," the Joker told me simply, sounding forlorn. I turned, but he had moved over to the desk, opening a drawer and searching frantically through it. Finally, he found what he was looking for, and he pushed something on it before turning toward me. "C'mere," he told me, motioning me forward.

I stood my ground. "What is that?" I asked.

"It's not-ah going to _hurt_ you," the Joker growled. He sounded impatient so rather than risk my health, I stepped forward. The Joker bounced at me, wrapping the thing around my neck and clasping it behind before I had a chance to protest. "Perfect," he commented.

"A collar?" I said, raising my fingers and touching the object.

"It's _act_-ually a choker," the Joker replied. "It has a tracker in it."

I narrowed my eyes, glaring at him. "Who said you could put a collar on me like I'm a dog?"

"You're my shadow, and, ah, I'm the dog."

"So _you_ should be wearing the collar!"

The Joker laughed. "Oh no, Shadow. _I'm_ the master, _your_ master. I _own_ you. You're _mine_. _You're_ wearing the collar until _I_ decide it, ah, comes _off_." He turned and took a slip of paper from the laptop. Turning back, he held it out toward me. "This is your victim's address. See if you can, ah, _find_ it before the night's out-ah."

I blinked in disbelief. "I know _nothing_ of Gotham City!"

"Then why'd you _come_ here?" He turned his head slightly toward the light of the laptop screen, making his white face glow almost angelic. "Did you think that-ah Gotham was for _tourists_?" He shook his head. "_Har_-dly a tourist spot." The Joker placed the slip of paper in my jacket pocket and then brought a hand to my face. "You have until dawn, Shadow," he said, smacking my cheek lightly. "Don't dis-a p -_point_ me."

* * *

**Lordlink13: Hey, **Sin**, did you catch the Joker's liking for **_**one**_** cat? I was **_**so**_** tempted to give the cat a name, but that would show too much favoritism for one of my readers – not that I **_**do**_** have a favorite. I love you all so much; the love's shared to all those who actually **_**leave**_** reviews, really, because I feel like I connect more through reviews and author's notes. So anyway, I enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hope you guys liked it. Leave a review before you go!**


	14. Take A Picture

I checked my watch, seeing that it was close to four fifteen in the morning. Since ten, I had been trying to figure out where this Tyler Samson's address was, and it seems like my luck just wasn't working for me tonight. Who knew what the Joker was going to do to me when I've never made it to the address? With the tracker in my collar – that I've tried several times to take off but failed – the Joker knew _exactly_ where I was located, and at that moment, I was sitting on a bench in Hyde Park, my chosen starting point since ten o'clock.

I didn't even know what the Joker wanted me to do to the guy when I found him. Kill him? Since it was the Joker, that's what I assumed, but I didn't want to do something wrong. Did the Joker realize the difficulty of this challenge he had given me? Or was it even a challenge?

I sighed and dropped my face into my hands. What was I going to do? I had the address, but I didn't know Gotham City. I had taken an hour to try to find a map, but like my first night in this city, there was no way to access one. If only Raven was out tonight too, then if I could just bump _into_ her like my first night here-.

"Sitting around isn't going to help you find Tyler." I jumped, scared out of my wits, and I had my gun in my hand within a flash. However, he moved faster and had me disarmed with my arm behind my back in a painful hold. "Calm down, _Janet_, it's just me, Ron."

"Is that your _real_ name?" I demanded with my tone sharp as a defensive mechanism.

"No, but I'll explain the situation, _only_ if you calm down and try not to kill me first." He waited a few moments before I gave a short nod, and he untwisted my arm slowly so that he didn't hurt me.

"First, why are you out here?" I asked. "Surely the boss would know you were out here."

"If he's locked himself in the tech room all night so far, I highly _doubt_ he's thinking of coming out soon. Who knows? He could be sleeping on the cot right now." Ron grinned, but I didn't, only hardening my expression. "C'mon, lighten up, Janet."

"That's _not_ my name," I snapped. "It's _Shadow_."

"Sorry, Shadow. I thought that was just what the boss called you."

"That's the name I _gave_ him."

"Whoa!" Ron exclaimed, lifting his hands in surrender. "Chill out, Shadow. I'm on your side. Remember, I helped you out of the nightclub."

"Only to get caught by the Joker, your _boss_," I snapped. I shadowed to him and snatched back my gun before returning to my spot. Ron noticed the gun disappearing, and he was looking down at his hand in surprise until he heard the click from me checking the ammo.

"Hold on, Shadow," Ron said, still holding his hands up. I aimed the gun at his chest, making eye contact. I nudged the gun in the direction of the bench, and Ron obediently sat down.

"Good, you know when you are faced with death," I commented.

"That's one of the many things I've learned working with the Joker," Ron murmured.

"You mean 'for'."

"No, I don't work _for_ him. I work _with_ him." I arched an eyebrow, and Ron sighed. "I've worked _for_ him for a year. I started when he was looking for guys to crash a fundraiser the billionaire of Gotham City, Bruce Wayne was having for the District Attorney, Harvey Dent. He had _promoted_ me to working _with_ him the night before he was caught by the police, returning to Arkham Asylum." He saw my confused look and explained, "Arkham is an asylum for the criminally insane, as well as other criminal masterminds who need special care in order to survive. The Joker is considered criminally insane, which he doesn't argue much. He gets offended if you call him 'crazy'."

"I've called him insane before," I said, "And he threatened me with his little knife friend."

"He _likes_ his little friends," Ron chuckled softly. "For the six months he remained in Arkham, I took care of business for him out on the streets. He trusts me more than Peter – who's been working for him _much_ longer than I have."

"Hypothetically, if the Joker had a friend, would it be you?" I asked.

"_Hypothetically_, I suppose so. I don't know anything about his identity, not even how he got his scars. I mean, I've heard the different versions he's given people to scare them, but I doubt any of them are true."

This started a flame of anger inside me, but I forced myself to keep control over myself. "What stories did the Joker tell?" If the Joker had lied to me about his scar stories…

"He's told so many, but they had some connection. One was that he had a wife who gambled and fell into debt. The loan sharks came and cut her face, and just to show her that he didn't care about the scars, he used a razor on himself. Another had his parents drinking like crazy, and his mother was upset that he was coming home so late. She decided that she didn't like his behavior so she used a potato peeler on him. All of his stories were family-related. He claimed to have a brother who hated him because he was the favorite of the family, and so his brother decided to kill him, of course the Joker managed to survive with only the scars."

Ron shrugged. "The stories go on and on."

That made me angry. The Joker _lied_ to me about how he got his scars. Not like I felt sorry for him either way, but _really_, he wasn't _ever_ gaining _my_ trust. It was obvious that he didn't trust me – the collar's proof – but it didn't matter if he trusted me later on in the game. I wasn't _ever_ going to trust him.

"All right, change the subject," I said. "Besides you working for the Joker, who _are_ you?"

"That's a hard question because I _really_ don't know." Ron shifted on the bench, hanging his arms over the back of it, his eyes focused on me. I looked at him confused. "I've been to several doctors, but I have the idea that I have repressed memory from my past. Some doctor even claimed that I had what's called dissociative fugue, where I basically have lost my personal identity."

"That's awful," I said quietly, lowering my gun and hanging it by my side.

"It's frustrating sometimes, but I've learned to deal with it. First thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed, with a middle-aged couple sitting by my side. They asked my name and age, and I only knew that I was thirteen and my first name was Dean. My last name escaped me, but the couple was nice enough to attempt to bring me back to my family. We never found them."

Again, Ron shrugged. "The couple took me in, but I wanted to find someone; I knew I _had_ to find someone. So I ran away to find that somebody."

"How do you know?" I asked.

Ron looked off in the distance for a moment and then looked at me again. "I wake myself up every morning – if the Joker doesn't – finding myself saying, 'I _have_ to find him. I _have_ to tell him I'm sorry.' I don't know who, and I doubt I'll find him, but I'll still look all the same."

I played with my gun, turning it between my hands. "Do you mind if I call you Dean, whenever the Joker's not around, of course?"

"You can call me whatever, just not 'Ron'." Dean grinned. "Shaun told me how he had revealed my other alias to the Joker, and he told Cory not to mention it. To everyone with the Joker, I'm Bleak."

"Must have been some inside joke."

"No, not really. Unless you call it a joke if the Joker happened to walk up to me and commented on the weather. I said that it was really bleak out, but I liked it that way. You'll see, the Joker will bring up the weather, and I'll comment on it. It's a joke that he enjoys bringing back every now and then."

I gave him a curious look. "Almost sounds like you really _like_ him."

Dean chuckled. "He's cool."

"If you think the Joker is 'cool', you have problems."

He tapped his head with a finger. "Amnesia's my problem. There's something about being around the Joker that brings back memories for a time. I don't remember them afterward, but it's nice to have a little less frustration in my life. Who knows? He might bring up the memory of the guy I have to apologize to so I can live my life without feeling the guilt of not having contacted the mystery guy." Dean blinked, seeming to awaken from a thought, and he looked over at me. "Did the Joker give you a time limit?"

"I have until dawn." I checked my watch and groaned. "I don't have long now."

"Hey, how 'bout I bring you to the place, and then we go out for breakfast to celebrate your victory over the Joker?"

"He'll want me to return as soon as possible."

"I overheard what he said to you. You're a rebel, and I'm sure you figured out – if he hadn't told you – that I'm a rebel too. Rebels stick together." Dean stood up, straightening his jacket and brushing back his bangs from his eyes. "How 'bout it, Shadow?"

I touched the collar. "The Joker's got a tracker on me."

"That's fine. He didn't actually give you the order to return after you failed or succeeded, did he?"

"Well, no…"

"Look, if it's a problem, blame it on me," Dean suggested. "I get in trouble with the Joker all the time, and he knows I'm a troublemaker." He grinned. "Surprised that I haven't gotten myself killed yet?"

"Why _does_ he keep you around?"

"As he keeps telling me, I'm 'entertaining' to him. I know how to get on his nerves, but I know the right time to stop. I obey and get the job done. I rarely question him while he's on the job, and I'm not pestering like Peter is, who seems to only care about the Joker and no one else." Dean shrugged. "Peter's a good guy, but he's oblivious to the fact that the Joker is only _using_ him." He reached into his pocket and drew out his wallet, checking how much money he had. "Dawn's usually six here, so let's head to the address and 'deal' with Tyler."

The way he said 'deal' caught my attention. "Is Tyler Samson _real_?"

"Sure, he's real. How _else_ would I have gotten the black eye?" He gestured to his eye, and I shrugged.

"Maybe you walked into a door," I said, lightheartedly.

Dean laughed. "Or I fell down the stairs." I narrowed my eyes at the reference to my escape attempt. "C'mon, let's go." I fell into step beside him, and we left Hyde Park behind.

A few hours later, around eight if you care, Dean and I wandered Gotham's streets, me following Dean since he seemed to know where he was going. He headed down a narrow street that was crowded with small cafés. He chose one called 'Ruby's' and he held the door open for me, like a gentleman.

There was a fair amount of patrons, people who were grabbing breakfast before heading off to work. It was a rather clean and tidy place with several sets of tables. About half of them were taken so Dean led me to a table and nicely pulled the chair out for me.

"Thank you, Dean," I said.

"Your welcome." He seated himself opposite me and grinned. "Nervous that the boss will find out?"

"I'm _positive_ he'll find out."

"C'mon, he can't expect you to know only _him_. You have to know your fellows, even if their numbers will run out faster than with any _other_ employer." He leaned back in the chair. "The longest lasting are Peter, Bob, and me. Oh, and there's Dave too, but the boss tends to forget his existence most of the time."

I grinned. "Out of the few of you who have lasted long, who do you think Mister J likes better?"

"Mr…Jay?" I waved my hand dismissively at him. "He…well, I don't know. I mean, he's admitted that he likes having me around. Bob, he's too serious. Peter's annoying, but he does whatever Jay tells him. Dave isn't around enough to gain any of Jay's attention. So I guess that leaves just me."

"You're so modest," I teased him as our waitress arrived.

"Good morning and welcome to Ruby's," the young woman said as she placed two menus in front of us. "Could I get you some drinks?"

"Coffee," I replied.

"The same," Dean answered.

"Two coffees. I'll be back." She moved away.

Dean opened his menu and started looking at the breakfast items, but I chuckled. "What?" he asked, innocently.

"I saw that, Dean."

"Saw what?"

I jerked my head in the direction our waitress had disappeared. "This is a personal question. Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"A few," he replied, casually. "I can almost say that I've dated just about every _type_ of woman."

"I could almost say the same about men." He looked up surprised, but I hid my smile behind my menu. "The egg muffin looks good."

"You don't look like a person who would eat it though."

"I don't really like eggs. I'll eat them if I have to." I flipped a page. "Another personal question, if you can answer it."

"Shoot."

"What's your worst school subject?"

Dean blinked at me in surprise. "Why?" he asked.

"Can you answer it or not?" I challenged.

"I can. English, but why?"

I put my menu flat on the table and leaned on my arms. "In middle school, I knew this boy named Dean Ledger. I guess I didn't really _know_ him too well, but it seemed to me that he wanted to get to know me. He'd come over during lunch and use English as an excuse to talk to me. He never seemed to pay attention to the teacher when the homework was being assigned."

Dean chuckled cheerfully. "I can picture me doing that. What did this Dean Ledger look like?"

"I remember the black hair, but nothing else seemed to pop up."

"Apparently I wasn't that important."

"You don't know it was you." I shifted in my seat, looking up as our waitress appeared with our drinks.

"Two coffees," she said, placing them down before us. "Are you ready to order?" she asked politely, preparing her pad.

"Yes, I would like pancakes and sausages," I said. "Maple syrup and butter."

She wrote it down. "All right, and you?"

"I'll have the French toast with the sausages, and eggs on the side." The waitress took our menus and promised to return again before she moved away to another table she was in charge of. "What should I call you in public?" Dean asked me. "Should it be Janet?"

"Go with Jane," I told him. "That's a new ID I'll have to set up when I can, but with Mister J, I don't think it's really that necessary since I doubt he'll let me out of his sight again after he finds out about this."

Dean grinned. "All right, Jane, mind if I ask _you_ a question?"

"Depends on what it is."

"What if it was a _personal_ question? I mean, I'll ask it, but you have the option not to answer it," he stalled.

"Again, I repeat, 'depends on the question'," I replied sharply.

"What do you think of Mr. Jay? I mean, what do you see in the Jo – in Mr. Jay? He _is_ older than you."

I gave him a sharp look. "How old do you think I am?" I demanded in a dangerously low voice.

"Early twenties?"

"Close enough. What about him?"

"Mid thirties?" he suggested, casually.

"_That_, Dean, was insulting!" I said in a harsh whisper, very conscious of the other customers.

"I only wanted to see your reaction," he said, innocently though his smile told otherwise. "I would guess him to be thirty, actually. He has the energy of a hyperactive kid though, making him _seem_ younger."

Our waitress returned with our meals, placing them before us as she named them to make sure we received the correct one. She asked politely if we needed anything else, and Dean answered with a 'no'. Then, she left to take care of others.

"How much younger?" I asked nonchalantly as I buttered my pancakes before pouring syrup on them.

"I'd say about…ten years," Dean replied, biting into his sausage.

"So he seems twenty, but he looks thirty," I said, shoving a bit of a pancake into my mouth.

"He hunches his shoulders, Jane. _That's_ what makes him look in his thirties, not his face or unbelievable energy."

I shook my head. "If he ever found out about this conversation, he'd kill you."

Dean swallowed his bit of French toast and laughed softly. "It's bad enough that I've _stolen_ you from him. Besides, this conversation will be between you and me, unless you decide to be _completely_ loyal to him-."

"_Never_," I murmured, quietly so he couldn't hear. And then, I said, "It's between you and me, unless you tick me off too much."

"Deal," Dean laughed.

The meal was filling, especially after having nothing to eat for a few days. Well, I had some food, but not enough to hold me for very long. The only way I survived was by concentrating on other things. I mean, you can last weeks without food; it's just the thought of it that ends up killing you because you're conscious of your stomach growling.

We finished the meal off, chatting about some personal things, mainly focusing on things that Dean _did_ remember. He was convinced that he was the Dean I had known back in middle school, and I could see that being it but I didn't want to encourage him, only to find out that it wasn't him.

Dean paid our waitress, and we left, me stifling a yawn as we walked out. "Tired, huh?" he commented.

"Mister J's got me on a nighttime schedule," I explained.

"He usually goes for the night too, mainly because his best bud's out at that time." Dean gave me a sidelook, and I grinned.

"The flying rodent," I said, and Dean nodded.

"But he does work during the day too. He doesn't keep to a regular schedule. It doesn't seem to bother him if he doesn't sleep for several days. If he gets going with something, he's not going to stop for sleep; he's going to finish whatever he's doing."

"I guess he recuperates in Arkham when he's caught."

"That what he's told me," Dean remarked. "C'mon, let me bring you back and then we'll face him."

"Actually, maybe I should return alone," I said, slowing down, but Dean stopped with me. "Really, Dean, I don't want to get you in trouble with him."

"Don't worry about me."

"No, I _mean_ it, Dean." I looked around the street. "Thank you very much for the meal, Dean, but I've got to go alone."

"All right," he said, sounding a bit disappointed. "We can do again some time if the boss doesn't know about it yet, right?"

I smiled. "Are you asking me on a date, Dean?"

He rubbed the back of his head, scanning the morning crowd of people, avoiding my gaze. "Just as friends," he said, unconvincingly.

"Sure, some other time." He looked at me and grinned sheepishly. "Doesn't seem like you've dated that many women before, Dean."

"I'm a quiet guy. It's like this for every _first_ time." He shrugged. "Well, I'll see you around, I guess." He waved and wandered across the street, running before a taxi turning the corner almost hit him.

I started walking and waited until I turned a corner before shadowing back to the apartment. Rather than face the Joker, I shadowed to his bedroom, checking to make sure he wasn't there before heading toward the bed. I sprawled on my stomach on the black and purple covered mattress, burying my face into a pillow.

I had barely drifted off into sleep when someone jumped on me, knocking the wind right out of me. I gasped for air and flinched as cold metal touched my neck while a hand grabbed my hair, pulling my head up from the pillow. I didn't resist, hearing his accelerated breathing, afraid that he might hurt me, even though all I had been doing was trying to get some sleep.

"Ah-tut-tut-tut-_tah_, think you can sleep when you _want_ to?" The Joker yanked me off the bed, and I hit the floor on my back. He straddled me, his face looming into my vision, so close that I could barely see his brown eyes in the black depths. "I _told_ you not-ah to disap-_point_ me, Shadow."

"You told me to find Tyler Samson, and so I did. _And_ I did it _before_ dawn."

"And you went-ah to 'Ruby's' on your way _back_?"

"I was hungry," I stated, hoping he wasn't going to push it.

He didn't look convinced that I had done the job he had given me. The Joker jumped to his feet and grabbed my arm, pulling me up with him. He darted out of the room, dragging me behind him. I followed him without resistance, knowing he was stronger than I.

The Joker approached the room I usually heard the TV going, and he burst into the room with me directly behind him.

His guys jumped in surprise. All of the Joker's guys – except Dean – were in the room, four of them sprawled out on the two couches, starting uneasily at the Joker and me. Peter sat backwards on his chair, his arms hanging over the back, his eyes wide but focused, like the other guys, on his boss. The TV was on, playing a sports game.

The room was a relatively good size with two couches, the TV, and a pool table near the back that looked like whoever the previous player was had left it mid-game. Food wrappers and empty beer bottles littered the floor, and it smelled of alcohol and smoke. The Joker sniffed the air as he came in, and a disappointing look appeared on his face.

"What-ah did I _tell_ you about smoking, boys?" he asked, his voice dark.

Shaun pointed at Dave who held a cigarette between his fingers as he inhaled from it. Cory, who was sitting next to him, looked uneasy, shifting slightly to the opposite end of the couch. Bob stood, moving toward the window since he was closest.

"Sit _down_, Bob," the Joker growled. Bob looked at him and then obeyed, deciding not to intimidate him. The Joker looked across the room, locking eyes with Dave. Dave stood, leaving his cigarette in his mouth, and the Joker released my arm, stalking toward the larger man, stepping over the beer bottles as he went.

"Davy, Davy, Davy," the Joker said, shaking his head disapprovingly. "_Real_-ly, you're not-ah a bad guy, but you have this…_tendency_ to ignore what I _say_ sometimes." He plucked the cigarette out of Dave's mouth and said, "You don't-ah _listen_ to me, you deal with the _con_-sequences." The Joker grabbed Dave's hand and jabbed it with the lit cigarette.

Dave gasped in pain. The Joker kneed him hard, causing him to double over with twice the amount of agony. With a solid kick to the chest, Dave fell to the ground, winded. Still holding the cigarette, the Joker crouched and dug it into the back of Dave's neck, causing him to choke on his scream. The Joker cracked Dave in the side of the head, knocking him unconscious before standing up and heading over to the window.

With a heave, the Joker opened the window and flicked the cigarette out into the street. He slammed the window shut and then turned back to the room. Everyone was watching him, including me. The Joker grinned, breathing in deeply like he sensed everyone's fear, enjoying the smell of it, but his smile didn't last long.

"Bob, Shaun, get him outta here," the Joker ordered. The two men jumped up and moved over to Dave's unconscious form, and I turned my head, noticing that the Joker was motioning me toward him. I walked around behind the couches to avoid getting in Bob and Shaun's way with Dave.

"What _time_ is it-ah?" he asked me.

I glanced at my watch. "Ninety thirty-seven."

"So we still have time." The Joker looked around and spotted the pool table. "Ever played pool before, _Sha_-dow?" he asked.

He seemed to have calmed down from the situation with Dave, and Bob and Shaun had barely been able to get the large man out of the room yet. The way the Joker's moods went, you just had to go along with him if you wanted to avoid getting in trouble with him. At least, that's what it seemed like to me.

"I've played it before," I said.

The Joker gave me a look. "Don't use the psy-_cho_-log-_ic_-al reply of repeating what-ah I _just_ said." He moved around me and sauntered toward the pool table, gathering the striped and solid colored balls and setting them in the wooden triangle.

"Well, what _else_ am I supposed to say?" I asked. I felt self-conscious with Cory and Peter still in the room, but since the Joker was obviously ignoring their presence, I had to make an effort to forget they existed, though it was hard when Peter was in the corner near the pool table. I headed over to the rack with the cue sticks, picking on out. "I don't _brag_ about my playing talent, if that was what you wanted me to talk about," I said, putting chalk on the end.

The Joker had set up the triangle and grabbed the cue ball. He approached, tossing the white ball to me. "You can break it," he said, picking a random stick and chalking it. "Do you play _well_?"

I placed the cue ball on the table and lined up my cue stick, placing it between the two fingers of my left hand. I hit the cue ball and with a neat _crack_, it sent the numbered balls in all directions, two striped balls falling into a side and a corner pocket. As I moved around the table toward the cue ball, I heard the Joker say, "Well, _that_-ah answers my _ques_-tion."

I smirked as I lined up for another shot. I hit the cue ball, but I hit the side so that it went and hit a solid ball, knocking it into a pocket. "Gave you a headstart," I said, casually as I stepped to the side.

"Why _thank_-you," the Joker said, bounding toward the cue ball. I watched him as he bent over, lining up with his eyes focused on the white ball. He used his left hand to position his cue stick, like I had, sliding the stick through his fingers a few times to prepare for the actual shot. Then, he snapped his arm forward, smacking the cue ball into a solid ball. Even as the ball rolled into a pocket, the Joker was positioning himself for a second shot.

Something in the way he did that movement appeared vaguely familiar. It gave me a feeling that I should _know_ where I had seen it before; it reminded me of something in the past, but I couldn't seem to place it. Besides playing card games, pool was another game that I had played during my spare time while working for different Mobsters. I've played almost as many pool games as I have played poker games.

"Take a picture; it _lasts_ longer." I blinked, surprised that the Joker's eyes were on me, yet he seemed frozen in that position, ready for his second shot. I didn't realize that I had continued to stare at him, even though I had wandered off mentally.

"Sorry," I whispered, looking away. And then, I remembered, jerking my head back. "I don't want _your_ picture. I want the one you _took_ from me."

The Joker straightened from his position, his eyes narrowed for a second. "What picture?" he asked, confused.

"Don't pretend you don't _know_. The picture you pretended to make appear out of thin air and you waved it in my face, _taunting_ me, before you locked me in that room!" My voice had become louder as I grew angrier, and I was vaguely aware of everyone staring at the two of us.

The Joker seemed to remember it a bit. "The one with the, ah, the kid with blond locks and the _serious_ look?" he asked. "The picture of, ah, of the boy who must-ah have been your _first_ boyfriend?"

"He was a boy who was a friend," I growled.

"_Was_? If he is a 'was', why do you _care_ so much about-ah his _pic_-ture?"

"Because it's _mine_, and you have no right to take it from me." The Joker smirked at me, and I felt the urge to jump over the table and strangle him. "You _know_ what picture I'm talking about. It doesn't matter who the picture is of, and it doesn't matter why I keep it. Just give it back."

"What-ah do you _say_?" the Joker asked, grinning widely at me. He was obviously enjoying this. My eyes turned cold as I glared daggers at him. "That's not-ah going to _work_, Shadow. C'mon, _say_ it first-ah." He snickered and then stood waiting.

Seeing that he was doing this to anger me so that he could sit back and watch the show, I pushed aside my pride and anger, and took a deep breath to regain my control. "Please, give me back my picture that you took from me."

Disappointment appeared in the Joker's expression as his smile faded. I kept my anger down and returned his stare with all the neutrality that I could muster. The Joker finally gave up and heaved a regretful sigh.

He shifted his hold on his cue stick and lined it up with the white ball, jerking the stick through his fingers before snapping it out, sending the cue ball into the solid red ball, knocking it into a corner pocket. The Joker moved around the table, his eyes scanning the table, looking for a target before he reached the cue ball, setting up his next shot.

I watched him as he mentally calculated how to hit his chosen target, and when he started doing the slide-through-his-fingers jerking movement, I said, "The picture?"

"Lost it," the Joker replied impassively. He cracked the cue ball, sending it into one of my striped balls, which hit his solid blue ball and knocked it into a side pocket.

As he positioned himself for his fourth shot, I leaned heavily against the wall, closing my eyes and breathing deeply from my nose. It was rare that I had a certain attachment to an object, or to a person, but when I had that connection, if I lost the subject of that bond, it seemed like the world was falling in on me. There was too much remorse to release through tears; it wasn't something I _could_ cry about. It didn't matter that I was in a room full of guys whom I had no connection with, besides work. I simply couldn't cry about my loss.

"Your turn," the Joker said, but I barely heard him. I moved toward the table, setting up for my shot, but my heart wasn't in it anymore. It was only my second turn…

That picture was the last thing I had of my dearest friend. Now, he was gone; lost to me forever…

* * *

**Lordlink13: Harsh, isn't it? Once I lost my MP3 player to the ocean - I had it in my pocket and the waves knocked me over so I wasn't suspecting it - and the salt killed the MP3. Despite how the earphones dried and I am still currently using them (even though this incident was over a year ago now), I thought the world was crashing in on me because I had lost my MP3. I own a few various items that I would have a major panic attack over if I lost them or broke them, namely my MP3, my wristwatch, and my flashdrives that hold all my stories - since I started in third grade (almost ten years ago). I'm not attached to a cell phone, cause I hate talking on the phone in general so...back to my original thought, Shadow's just lost something precious, acting as though the world's come to a complete stop, just I would if I lost my current flashdrive that holds all of this story and many others. Imagine losing your cell phone forever and being unable to replace it. It's tears you apart.**

**To end on a happier note, I'm glad that people are still reading this story and reviewing. Keep up the reviews; please make sure you leave one before you go. I really enjoy reading them, and they give me something to talk about in my author notes at the end of each chapter. Thank you, dear readers, you're all amazing!  
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	15. A Little Push

The pool game continued in silence, besides the men murmuring amongst themselves about the sports game going on. I focused only on the game or on Peter, who seemed to be watching my every move, like I was going to turn into a werewolf or something. The thought was nice though; if I turned into something, I hoped that I'd kill the Joker first.

The Joker made his moves with serious concentration, his brow frowning when he was calculating a shot in his head. For a man who laughed and smiled and acted like a clown, he could be _quite_ serious when he put his mind to it. I caught him glancing in my direction, but I never made eye contact, knowing I'd lose the small amount of control I had.

We reached the end quickly, making the call shot several times and missing each time. Even in my numbed state, I could tell that the Joker was missing on purpose so that I had a chance to win against him.

After I had missed a few times, the Joker tried sneaking behind me and helping position my cue stick, but I elbowed him hard in the chest, making him grunt and move away. He kept trying though, and finally, I let him guide me.

He didn't seem to be aware of it, but I was. He was pressed so close behind me that it seemed like his body fit me. I heard his breathing near my ear, felt his arm as he grabbed my hand and positioned it. With his arms around me to guide me, I lost track of my emotions. As he leaned over, pressing against me, I leaned over with him, letting his hand wander to mine to be an enforcer.

He and I jingled our cue stick back and forth several times, preparing for the shot before using our combined force to hit the cue ball, sending it into the eight ball. We went still as the black ball fell into the destined pocket.

I felt like the world had stopped. I didn't feel like myself, like I didn't have any control over my body. I heard myself breathing heavily, as it accelerated. My heart pounded rhythmically in my chest. I felt the Joker's body heat radiating from him. He was breathing on my neck, his head turned slightly so that his lips touched my cheek. I felt numb everywhere, except for where he had his lips.

It lasted only a second, and then, the Joker pulled away.

"Ten o'clock!" he exclaimed. "Someone change the channel! I want-ah to see the ten o'clock news!"

I blinked and upon finding that I was still leaning over, straightened. The Joker had tossed his cue stick onto the table to bound around the couches to see the news. I glanced at Peter, to see that his attention was on the TV, same as the other guys in the room.

"Turn it up!" the Joker ordered at the person with the remote. "Turn it _way_ up!" As the volume increased, I took the Joker's cue stick and mine and put them away in the holding rack before finding an empty chair and placing it backwards facing the TV where I straddled it, resting my chin on my arms.

"…_We have just received news of the discovery of a body floating in Gotham Harbor," _the newscaster said. _"Police believe it to be the work of the Joker, or someone who works for him. A smile has been carved into the man's face along with what looks like a Yin and Yang symbol on his forehead. The man found has been identified as Tyler Samson, a member of the Ghost Dragons gang…"_

I caught the Joker's head jerking in my direction so I quickly buried my face in my arms. It had only been five or six hours ago, and I still couldn't believe what I had done. It had all come on the spur of the moment; I had needed a symbol to use as a shadow, and Yin and Yang happened to be the first thing that had come to mind.

Tyler had a dagger on him at the time, and I had used it to make his smile…something for the Joker. I had made sure that Dean hadn't seen me when I did it, but if he was watching the news right now, he'd know what I did when I had told him to make sure that Tyler's friends were gone.

I felt a hand drop on my head, but I didn't raise it. Leather stroked my hair as the Joker said, "Go back to, ah, to your game, boys." His hands slipped under my arms, and he lifted me from the chair. I didn't raise my head as the Joker led me gingerly out of the room, closing the door behind him.

We walked a ways from the room, and then the Joker released me. I leaned my back against the wall, thumping my head against it as I closed my eyes.

"The Yin and Yang was…_creative_," the Joker remarked.

"Don't talk to me about that," I said, quietly, pained. "I don't know why I did it, and I regret it. I've never left anything behind that would lead back to me."

"I'm rubbing _off_ on yah." The Joker chuckled, but I slid down along the wall, collapsing on the floor.

I had a sudden urge to cry, a lump forming in my throat. I didn't want to feel like this. It made me angry, and my anger showed. I ducked my head forward and then threw it back, hitting it hard against the wall.

"Whoa!" the Joker exclaimed as I did it again. He lunged forward, grabbing my head before I could hit it a third time, and for extra measure, he placed his arm behind me. "None of that-ah, Shadow," he ordered, sternly.

"You can't stop me," I said, my voice cold, my eyes lifeless. He seemed taken aback by how cold I had become, but he recovered a moment later.

"How is _this_ different from _other_ murders you've committed, under the Mob's orders?" the Joker demanded, his voice turning hard to match mine.

"You never ordered me to kill him. I did it of my own free will."

"That's right, Shadow." The Joker shifted, grabbing my chin roughly. "This is only the be-_gin_-ning."

"But I _chose_ to kill him," I protested, my anger fading into hysteria. "I've only done that _once_ in my life…" The Joker, who had opened his mouth to say more, closed it, listening. "At the time," I said, quietly, "It was a relief to kill him, to get away from him…" I stopped, realizing that the Joker didn't know _who_ I was talking about.

"Go on, Shadow," he pressed, his voice soft as he pushed me to tell him.

It seemed like the right moment. I had never told anyone about my past, keeping that a secret hidden with only myself so it wasn't really a secret. It takes two to make a secret, but it only takes one person to hide something.

That moment, I was so feeble, so vulnerable. I feared speaking, but I had a forbidden sense that if I spoke about my past, it would make me feel better; despite how much I feared my past. There are some things that people do not wish to remember.

I decided to tell the Joker. If anyone would understand, it would be him. The scar stories he has told me revealed pieces of his past, and it seemed enough, to me, that I could trust him with something as awful as my _own_ past.

I took a hesitating breath. "Okay," I said quietly, like I was testing my voice. "I suppose I was a normal girl, living with a caring family. I had a mother, a stepfather, and even a little stepbrother. I lived a relatively unchanged life, going to school, studying, making…friends…" I swallowed hard. "It only took the arrival of my birthfather to change everything…

"My mother fell in love with a Mobster and dropped out of high school to be with him. She was only seventeen, but when she found she was pregnant, she ran off, knowing that my father, Michael would come after her. She married a man named Dane who offered protection and love.

"Michael found us, having his men hold down Dane, my brother Scotty, and me while he raped my mother." I hugged my knees, closing my eyes tightly against the memory of her screams. "He gave her the quick way out, shooting her in the head and ending her life." I cringed, hearing the fatal gunshot echo in my head, hiding my face in my arms. "He stabbed Dane to death. My brother…Scotty was tied to a chair and soaked with gasoline. One of Michael's men dropped a match and lit Scotty."

I was shaking madly, choking on sobs. The tears ran down my cheeks against my will. Curled tightly into my chest, I couldn't breathe. Noticing this, the Joker drew me away from the wall, grabbing my arms and pulling them out. I didn't resist him, my sobs becoming uncontrollable but still quiet. Without a word, the Joker slipped his arms underneath me and lifted me into his arms, cradling me against his chest.

I buried my face into his shoulder, hugging his neck. My sobs were muffled by his leather jacket as he carried me down the hall toward his bedroom.

With minor adjustments, the Joker balanced me as he turned the doorknob, pushing the door open with his foot. He kicked it closed before bringing me to the bed, laying me on it. Free from his grasp, I turned onto my side and curled into myself, grabbing a handful of the blanket. I was vaguely aware of the Joker pulled off my shoes, kicking off his own before he climbed onto the bed beside me, lying on his back with his hands clasped behind his head; head turned toward me.

I didn't speak as I let the tears run, burying my face into the blanket and wiping my eyes. When the sobs had subsides a bit, I said in a choked voice, "I tried to save Scotty, but Michael grabbed me and locked me into his car. He drove me away, screaming and fighting, watching my home burn.

"He took me back to his place and locked me in a small room." I looked up at him with bleary eyes and said, "_Worse_ that any of the rooms _you've_ put me in…" I dropped my gaze to the blanket. "It was a place where I was alone, alone to think over what had happened. I was scared, I cried, I was alone. It did nothing to save me from those memories that kept flashing in my mind."

I closed my eyes as a tear slid from one. "Five years…that's how long I remained with Michael, unable to get away from him. No matter what, if I wasn't in that small room, I was with him. I pretended to be mute, only looking at the floor. He hit me; I felt the bite of a cane that Michael fancied. I was even present while he was…" I bit my lip hard, keeping it there until it started to bleed.

"It only took a few months. I couldn't brave it out, being too scared to protect myself from such things. At the age of thirteen, I had seen all types of crimes committed, have been part of some of them. Michael used me, hurt me, bent me to his will. He always used the word 'train', like I was his pet, someone he could 'train' to obey his every order. Unable to fight back, I did learn to obey, and gradually, I accepted what my life had become. I became one of them, being the obedient one to my father. I did everything I could to make him happy with me, but I still received beatings, gaining a tolerance to pain…

"I was seventeen, high on the excitement of the latest crime, an armed robbery when I accidentally shot Michael's right-hand man, a guy named Todd. He died instantly from a shot in the chest. Michael was very angry with me. I told him I was sorry, pleaded for his forgiveness, _begged_ at his feet, broken like a beaten dog…"

I licked my lower lip, tasting the blood, and my eyes lifted, catching the Joker's. His tongue slid out over his bottom lip like mine, and I begged for him, my eyes softening to the point I almost cried. Some sense hidden deep inside him alerted him subconsciously of my need, and he rolled onto his side, placed a gloved hand on the bed between us. I immediately reached for it, squeezing it tightly for comfort. His scarred mouth twitched at the corners as he squeezed back, his eyes intent on mine.

"He called me in later after yelling at me for killing his right-hand. The moment I walked into the room, a trap was triggered, and I found myself hanging by my ankle, upside down. The floor opened underneath me." My grip tightened. "Several floors, I couldn't count how many, separated me from the dark water. I was fine…until he _dropped_ me."

I whimpered, burying my face in the blanket as my stomach lurched like the memory was real. "I must've dropped a floor or two. The sudden stop hurt. It wasn't even a gradual stop. I hung there for several moments before he dropped me two floors more. He stopped me and left me there for a minute before bringing my back up to the top.

"I remember him yelling at me, but his words were a jumble in my head. I was afraid, trembling all over. My state made him angrier, and he dropped me with unpredictable numbers of floors. He hung me there for a few moments and then raised me, only to drop me again.

"He asked me questions that I couldn't answer. I was so…_terrified_; I couldn't speak. Seizures…I remember having a seizure before he dropped me. Every time…I had a seizure until I simply became…_paralyzed_ with my fear.

"It was torture; the drop, the stop, the hanging, the rising, and the next drop. Paralyzed with fear, there was nothing I could do. I couldn't move, couldn't speak…I don't know how long it went on. It seemed endless.

"The last rise…I couldn't see anything, the blood pressure in my head too great. He rose me to the top, and I hung there, limp, listening to his last words…'I've trained you to obey my every order. I've taught you how to live. You repay me by killing Todd…I believe in revenge, Sara, and I _will have it_.'…"

I stopped, fighting back tears. I felt so small, so scared; the memory of the endless drops fresh in my mind. My hand clenched the Joker's tightly, and noticing it, I let go, drawing my hand away. He reached out and pulled my hand back, and I watched his thumb as he rubbed the back of my hand.

"What-ah happened then?" he asked, his voice low, cautious, like he knew I was on the edge of breaking.

I took a shaky breath and said, "I found a gun in my hand, like it had appeared out of thin air. Before he dropped me, I shot him in the chest, just like Todd." I closed my eyes for a moment and then opened them, meeting the Joker's. "He was the only thing keeping me from falling into the water. With him down, I fell…"

Tears choked me, and I shifted, bringing myself up against the Joker, burying my face into his chest as the sobs overtook me. He hesitated, unsure of what to do, and then put his arms around me.

I didn't cry as long as the first time. I fell into a hiccupping-sniffing state after a few minutes. I stroked the collar of the Joker's jacket, needing something to focus on, to distract me.

Then, the Joker pulled away from me gently, and I let him go; I had no strength to keep him with me. He didn't intend to leave me there, getting off the bed and turning back to face me. "C'mon, _Sha_-dow," he said, his voice low. He held out a hand in my direction and motioned for me to come to him. I propped myself up on my hands, sliding to a sitting position, but I stared at his hand, uncomprehending.

"It's a, ah, a _hand_, Shadow. Only difference is that-ah it's _my_ hand. C'mon, I won't-ah _hurt_ you. I wanna show you something." I looked up at him and shook my head slowly. His tender expression hardened as his anger surfaced. The Joker walked around the bed toward my side, and he leaned over, grabbing me around the waist.

Despite my swirl of emotions, I protested as he effortlessly heaved me off the bed and onto my feet where he held me against his chest. He shifted his hold on me to my upper arm before stepping back, turning, and leading me into the bathroom.

The Joker flicked on the light and pulled me in after him, kicking the door closed behind me. I jumped at the sound, and I started struggling as he stepped behind me, his arms trapping mine to my sides as he held me in a bear hug. I fought until I looked into the mirror and saw the anger in his white face that appeared slightly behind mine. Seeing his unpredictable rage, I stopped, almost falling limp as the Joker slid his hands to my shoulders, his grip tight.

"Look at the mirror, Shadow," the Joker told me, and I turned my head toward him. He growled angrily and grabbed my chin, roughly forcing me to look at the mirror. A cold arrow of fear shot through me when I met my own eyes, seeing a flicker of color besides the blue. The Joker's grip relaxed on me, and I leaned over the sink, gripping the edge of the counter tightly.

Before my eyes, images of my parents' bodies flashed, burning into my retinas. The smell of death stung inside my nose, and the echo of a sob and scream rung in my ears, all coming from my memories.

"Take it-ah into _strive_," the Joker said, his voice sounding distant.

"Why…" I said in a strangled voice.

"It makes you…_stronger_." It could have been me in my struggling state that the Joker's voice didn't sound like his; it was higher by an octave, less husky. "You're a _broken_ woman, Shadow. Your father has _seen_ to that-ah. I suppose my _original_ idea isn't-ah going to _work_ so I'll go by something _else_." He grabbed me and turned me to face him, holding me still. "I al-_ready_ have you as my _Sha_-dow. Now, all that needs to be done is…completing your _education_." He licked his lips and then grinned at me, leaning forward.

I whimpered as I bent backward over the sink until my head hit the mirror. I gripped handfuls of his leather jacket to keep myself from falling, and he giggled as he encircled his arms around me to hold me. "I can't, Joker," I said, watching his dark eyes. "I'm not meant to kill people like that…my only problem is that I can't _escape_ my past, those terrible memories."

"There _is_ a way, Shadow," the Joker said, confidently. "I've _been_ there, have _done_ that-ah."

"We're not the same, Joker."

"We are _too_ very ah-_like_." He straightened, pulling me with him, and we were face-to-face. "I can _help_ you, Shadow," he said, his tone soft, his expression eager. "Through _weakness_ comes strength." He suddenly giggled. "I sound like some ol' wise guy on drugs!"

In spite of myself, I smiled as the Joker laughed at himself. My grin was short-lived though. "Why would you help someone like me? How _can_ you help me if you need help yourself?"

The Joker turned his head, giving me his sidelook as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Ya know, Shadow, that's a _good_ _ques_-tion, but-ah it doesn't _mat_-ter." He pulled me close, his hot breath warming my face. "At _this_ point in our re-_lat_-ion-_ship_, we know the bas-_ic_ grounds of what-ah made us who we are."

I lowered my eyes to his necktie, and I reached with a hand, pushing my hair out of my face. "I'll admit that you're the only person I've told my past."

"I feel _spec_-ial," he remarked, and I cracked a smile. "Shadow," he said, and I raised my gaze, meeting his. "You've sunken to my level _before_ I found you. It seems only _right_ that-ah I watch _out_ for you."

"I don't need protection," I said, pushing away.

He tightened his hold and brought his face next to mine, pressing his cheek to mine. I struggled to free myself from his grasp. "Don't forget-ah your _family_, Shadow," the Joker whispered into my ear.

Almost as soon as he had said that, it started all over again. I crumbled, my emotional walls disintegrating under the Joker's words. I would've collapsed to the floor if the Joker hadn't been holding me, my knees buckling with the sudden weakness.

The Joker swept me up into his arms and carried me out of the bathroom and into bed. He had installed blinds to the windows while I had been away on his "mission" so he closed them, taking all the care to make the room as dark as it would be at night before he joined me.

Neither of us received much sleep. My sleep was tormented by nightmares of my past, and I awoke screaming and writhing against some invisible enemy. Being awoken by my yells, the Joker got up with me, holding me to him, stroking my hair, and speaking to me softly, telling me it was all right even though the moment I fell back to sleep, the nightmares returned. I felt like a child, clinging to the Joker like he would protect me. Only twice did he shake me awake because I couldn't seem to surface from the nightmares. I remember him placing something on me as I tried to fall asleep again before he draped an arm over my body, keeping me close to him as I drifted off.

When I awoke for the last time, I found myself alone in the bed, yet I was sure I could still sense his presence. Exhausted, I remained lying in the bed under the covers, burying my face in one of my covers. The familiar feel of leather had me checking what I had on me.

The Joker had draped his jacket over me the last time. I breathed in his scent from the jacket, finding that it helped me relax, calming my high-strung nerves. Inhaling the smell of explosives made the night seem so distant. _And_ it made me restless.

I climbed out of bed and headed toward the bathroom, pulling on the Joker's jacket for the heck of it. Splashing cold water on my face, I felt refreshed, cleared of the nightmare of earlier today. Glancing at my watch, it was only 9:27 PM. Despite having little sleep, I felt energetic all of a sudden.

There was a loud bang, and I jumped, whipping my head around. The Joker burst into the bedroom, exclaiming, "Wake up, _beautiful_!" Then, he realized that I wasn't in the bed, and he looked confused as he glanced in the direction of the bathroom. He saw me standing in the doorway, and a grin replaced his perplexed look. "_You're_ looking better," he remarked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

"I _feel_ better," I told him, and he giggled, moving his arms. The movement drew my eyes to the long box he was carrying. "What's in that?"

"Something for ya," the Joker exclaimed, excitedly. He bounded toward me and stopped before me, his eyes wandering down my form for a second.

"Eyes up here," I said, irritably, and he instantly raised his eyes to my face, grinning sheepishly.

"Did I ever tell you that-ah you look damn _good_ in purple?" the Joker asked, smirking.

I gave him a look, but I smiled anyway. "Give me the box," I said, holding out my arms. He seemed happy enough to hand it over, but not to let go.

"It's a good thing I got-ah you something _pur_-ple," he giggled. I tore the box out of his hands and placed it on the counter, turning to close the door. "Wait!" he cried, and I did, watching him as he ran over to where he had thrown my shoes the night before and returned, tossing them at me, both at the same time.

I scrambled to catch them, missing both of them and the Joker howled with laughter. "Jerk," I growled before closing the bathroom door, only making him laugh even harder.

I feared the worst as I slowly lifted the lid of the box. I expected a handmade bomb to blow up in my face. Or knives to come flying out, cutting my face to bits. The Joker was unpredictable, who _knew_ what he could have thought up to put in the box. A criminal outfit was _not_ what I had expected from the Joker.

The Joker had somehow found clothing that fit me perfectly. A pair of black pants that clung to my hips and upper thighs but hung loosely at the bottom so I could hide knives; a long-sleeved red shirt with a black leather vest zipped up over it; black leather gloves; a purple jacket like the Joker's but of a lighter shade; a black studded belt; a choker that was a very dark purple. With my Skechers, the outfit looked complete.

I turned myself, getting side views of how I looked. I had to admit that it was an _amazing_ outfit. I posed, grinning with satisfaction as the leather moved with me like a second skin. I flexed my hands, loving the creak of the leather.

I smiled at the mirror as I pulled my hair back but stopped. Cold fear shot through me as I lunged closer to the mirror, almost hitting it with my head. I stared, blinked, and continued staring. I couldn't believe it; I _had_ to be seeing things!

My eyes, which were always blue and have been since I was born, were no longer blue. Instead, they were exactly the same shade of purple as the Joker's jacket.

"All right-ah in there, Shadow?" the clown called.

I closed my eyes and hung my head as I gripped the edge of the counter. "Just a minute," I said. I lifted my head and looked into my reflection. Without much thought, I _knew_ that the change of eye color was because of my shadow abilities. I _did_ see the purple haze creeping into my vision and gravity's pull lessen. I forced myself out of that state before it finished, and I saw that my eyes had returned to their original color.

Good riddance!

I checked myself again and found the smile creeping back onto my lips. I let it and opened the bathroom door.

The Joker had been standing in the middle of the bedroom, his back facing the door, but when it opened, he half-turned, his head cocked to the side. His eyes widened slightly as he smiled, turning the rest of the way.

I couldn't help but show off for him. I posed in the doorway, placing a hand higher up on the doorframe while my other hand rested on my hip. All of my weight transferred to one foot as I crossed the other over my ankle.

"For a man who's _technically_ known me for five days, you understand my personality well," I commented.

"I believe…it's _real_-ly _eight_ days," the Joker said. He shrugged and motioned me forward. "But-ah I suppose it _would_ be four days with you being un-_con_-scious for three and one night out-ah on your _own_."

I sauntered forward until he motioned me to halt. The Joker eyed me up and down, moving around me slowly, taking me in. I didn't turn my head to watch him, sensing _where_ his eyes were with my shadow. He didn't linger on anything, acting as though the whole outfit and I needed equal attention. For a man, he had quite an amount of self-control.

When he stopped in front of me, the Joker had a wide, satisfied grin on his scarred mouth.

"What do you think?" I asked him.

"What-ah do _you_ think?"

I grinned. "I _love_ it."

"Hm, I do _too_." He chuckled softly. "Almost-ah finished."

My smile faltered. "Almost?" I repeated.

The Joker bounded toward the bathroom and opened a drawer. When he pulled out a tube of paint, I said, "No…I'll do the outfit, but not facepaint."

"I _believe_…you said that-ah I could do _everything_ else, as long as I let you keep your shoes." The Joker faced me, holding the tube in his hand, an amused expression on his painted face. "You haven't-ah got the _choice_," he giggled, approaching me.

I moved backward to get away, but he lunged forward, knocking me down to the floor. I hit my head and winced as he straddled my waist to keep me from trying to escape. After he had tossed his gloves onto the bed, the Joker opened the tube.

"No _facepaint_!" I growled as I squirmed.

The Joker, paint in one hand, grabbed my chin roughly with his other hand. "Hold still," he ordered. "Don't-ah want this is your _eyes_ now, do yah?" I still squirmed until he touched my face with the paint.

"Oh geez," I gasped, "That's cold!"

"Yeah, yeah," the Joker replied distractedly as he applied the paint around my eyes.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Painting…"

"What's the design?"

"Quiet-ah. I'm _con_-centrating." I shut my mouth and focused on his expression, following his fingers as they traced under my eyes and over them. The Joker painted on the bridge of my nose, filling in the spot between my eyes. He rubbed the paint around my eyes and up to my eyebrows. I wondered if he was giving me panda eyes to match him, but I doubted it if he had painted my nose too.

"What color is it?" I asked, unable to stop myself.

"Sh-sh-sh," he hushed me as his eyes narrowed in concentration. "Close your eyes." I obeyed, and he gently rubbed some paint on my eyelids.

"There," the Joker said, sitting up, still straddling me. I opened my eyes as the Joker produced a handheld mirror.

"Did you have that in your pocket?" I asked as he held it up.

"No, I pulled it-ah out of _thin air_," he chuckled, positioning the mirror. "Have a, ah, a _look_ and tell me what-ah you _think_."

The Joker had used purple paint, and he had drawn an eyemask on my face. I raised an eyebrow, and it was difficult toe even see it move under the purple. At least he didn't repeat what he usually does to himself on me. I'd be a Shadow Clown; as if a clown like the Joker wasn't scary _enough_.

"Why purple?" I asked, looking at him curiously.

The Joker giggled as he tossed the mirror across the room and then fell forward. I flinched, raising my hands, expecting him to fall on me, but he caught himself on his hands. Mine caught him in his chest, but I instantly dropped them when I realized that he had stopped. He didn't miss my reaction, and he chuckled softly as he licked his lips.

"I _told_ look _good_ in _pur_-ple," he drawled, in a charming tone. "_Be_-sides, you said it's your _fav_-orite color."

I blinked, trying to remember when I had told him, but the Joker didn't expect a response. He pushed himself up and climbed to his feet. The Joker positioned himself by my feet before extending his hands toward me to assist me. Even though I could've done it myself, I grabbed his offered hands, expecting him to drop me when I got halfway, but he pulled me to my feet without even the threat of releasing me.

The Joker pulled me into him, placing an arm around my waist while he looked at me intensively, a hand under my chin. He grinned, looking excited, and for a moment, I worried about what was running through his mind.

"C'mon, Shadow," the Joker exclaimed as he shifted his grasp to my wrist. "Time for you to, ah, to meet your first – _tech_-nically _second_ – criminal mastermind of Gotham _Ci_-ty!" He laughed out loud and yanked me out of the room.

* * *

**Lordlink13: Ooo! Who is Shadow going to meet? Who are the other criminal masterminds in Gotham City? Guess, readers, it will all be revealed in the next chapter! And I'm sorry about your dog, **Sinario**. Joker's been busy helping me with this story so he hasn't made contact with your cat lately; he's too busy being a jerk to Shadow. Sometimes I wonder why he wasn't named the Jerk, rather than the Joker…he didn't like that so I'll take that back. So, anyway, keep up the reviews! They make me happy!**

**P.S. Let me apologize beforehand in case chapter 16 is uploaded late. I've been having trouble trying to figure out how to progress in the story, and chapter 16 is what I call the "pushing" chapter because it's going to push the story ahead in time so I can get on with the better stuff. _And_ I haven't been able to focus cause I'm ending school, and graduation will be around the corner for me. But I'll try my best to upload ASAP! Because I love my readers, and I don't want to disappoint you. *smiles* So forgive me ahead of time.  
**


	16. Walking the Edge

"The Penguin, huh?" I commented. "Does he look like one?"

The Joker burst with laughter, throwing his head back against the headrest, and I couldn't help but smile.

We were in the back of the Volvo, riding in the back with Dave while Bob and Peter rode in the front. The Joker didn't seem to be holding anything against Dave from earlier, hence why he was there, but my problem was that Dave was so _huge_; he was taking up some of my seat too so I ended up leaning against the Joker. _He_ didn't seem to mind the situation, since he had his arm draped over my shoulders comfortably.

"I suppose Cobblepot has _some_ simi-_lar_-ities to a penguin," the Joker said, thoughtfully. "His nose for one thing…and the way he walks. His name is Oswalk Cobblepot, but-ah I like to call him Abner. He doesn't-ah _like_ it, but hey!" He shrugged. "What-ah do _I_ care?"

The Volvo pulled up to the curb, and we climbed out. Peter left the car running, but the Joker stepped up to his front window and told him to shut it off. "No point-ah leaving it _running_," the Joker told him. "It's not-ah going to be a _short_ visit, as far as _I_ can tell." I just rolled my eyes as Peter turned off the car. "Stay here, Peter," the Joker ordered, "_Just_ in case."

It turned out that we were in the back of another nightclub, which didn't seem to surprise me. Having met the Joker near a nightclub, it seemed that _this_ was where the criminals hung out. Only difference was that this wasn't The Stacked Deck.

Iceberg Lounge, a nightclub owned by the Penguin, Mr. Cobblepot, and his gang. We walked around to the front and entered to find that the place was practically empty, except for a scattered number of men in dark clothing with black bowler hats. I recognized the costume as the same for the men who had robbed the bank at the same time Bozo – aka the Joker – the Joker's men, and I had. These men were the Penguin's henchmen.

Of course, the moment we entered, all of them stood up and trained several different types of guns at us. I could name the rifles and handguns…_if_ I wasn't under pressure. Responding with Dave and Bob, I pulled out two guns and aimed them at two of the bird-men, stepping forward so that I covered the Joker a bit while he looked around, with an amused expression on his white face.

"Well, _knock-knock_," the Joker remarked.

"Why are you here, Joker?" A short man with an obese problem stepped out from the backroom, appearing behind the counter. He wore spectacles on his beaklike nose, which _definitely_ made him look like a bird. His hair was black and seemed to be coming from only one spot at the very center of his head, leaving a bald circle around it before the side hair started. He stood behind the center, holding a purple umbrella, resting it on the bar.

"_There_ you are, Abner," the Joker greeted. "I think your boys need to, ah, to learn some _manners_ when a friend comes over."

"You're not a friend, Joker," the Penguin stated, wryly.

"If _any_-thing, we're ac-_quaint_-ances." The Joker stepped around me, and the Penguin's henchmen aimed directly at him, despite Bob, Dave, and I training on them. "Come _on_, Abner. A little _chat_-ah is all I want."

"If it has to do with the other night-."

"You mean the bank? Sure thing, Abner!" the Joker exclaimed. "That's _one_ reason why I came to visit-ah."

"What are your other reasons?" the Penguin asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Ah-ta-ta-ta-tah! One thing at a _time_, Abner." The Joker waited, giving Cobblepot a look. The other criminal snapped his fingers, and his men lowered themselves back into their chairs, leaving their guns on their tables, warily watching.

The Joker surveyed the room and then grinned as he looked at the Penguin. "Now that-ah everyone's _set_-tled." He did his strange gait as he sauntered over to the counter, jumping up onto a stool and swinging it around until he leaned forward, placing his hands on the bar.

Mr. Cobblepot seemed taken aback by the Joker's actions, but he recovered, seeming to know that this was what the Joker was like. He placed his umbrella aside and waited, leaning on the bar.

I noticed that Bob and Dave were looking slightly out of place, but I didn't want to stand here in full view. Instinctively, I moved over to the shadows, edging closer to the Joker to keep an eye on the Penguin and his men, to make sure they didn't make any sudden moves.

"How've you _been_, Abner?" the Joker asked, his green hair falling into his face.

"Let's skip the niceties," Cobblepot said.

"It's been _that_-ah _bad_?" The Joker gave Cobblepot a worried look as he pushed back his stray locks. "That _worries_ me. What's been _hap_-pening?"

"You and your gang for _one_ thing," the Penguin snarled.

The Joker gestured with a hand, to prompt him along. "Let-ah it _all out_, Abner. Get it _off_ your chest-ah."

"Only _one_ of my men returned from the bank," the Penguin continued. "You were robbing the same bank."

"We don't-ah necessarily _tell_ each other _what_ and _when_ we are going to, ah, to _do_ things."

"_I'm_ talking," Cobblepot snapped, smacking his hand down on the counter. I jumped at the sudden sound, but the Joker didn't even blink. "And even when you got away with the money, you ended up _losing_ it!"

The Joker rubbed the back of his neck. He gave the Penguin a look from underneath his white brow, arching an eyebrow. "Yah _finished_?" he asked, and the Penguin's face reddened in anger. "Can't-ah say that I _knew_ you were _plan_-ning on robbing Gotham's Bank. Had a _lit_-tle sit-u-_ation_ with one of my guys, hence the lost-ah money." The Joker gave the Penguin a sidelook. "Figured _some_-one would claim it-ah."

"Someone _did_." The Penguin lit a cigarette and took a long draw from it.

The Joker was frowning – or seemed to be. "Who did?" he asked.

"Batman, as far as I can guess. The police discovered a gray SUV with the bags of money." The Penguin grinned. "Seems like _someone's_ losing his edge."

The Joker stood up, reaching over and grabbing the Penguin by the front of his white shirt. Cobblepot's men aimed their guns at the Joker, but the Penguin motioned for them to lower their weapons.

"Seems like you've got quite a few things on your mind lately, Joker," the Penguin said, sincerely.

"_Act_-ually, I _do_." The Joker released him and leaned against the counter, drawing an invisible doodle on the bar with his gloved finger, his eyes down. He murmured something, which the Penguin strained to hear.

"Do you really?" the Penguin asked, seeming to have caught what the Joker had said.

"Sure thing. Thought-ah I'd try something _new_," the Joker said, still looking at his moving hand. Then, he stopped and looked up at the Penguin suspiciously. "I'm not-ah _that_ kind of guy, Abner."

"I didn't say anything." The Penguin grabbed his umbrella and leaned on it. "If that's all you wanted, Joker-."

"_Act_-ually, there's _one_ other thing." The Joker straightened, smoothing out his jacket before leaning on the counter again with his chin propped on his hand, elbow on the bar. He dropped his voice as he spoke to the Penguin. Being as far as I was, I couldn't make out what he was saying, and he had his hand close to his mouth, to keep me from reading his lips.

The Penguin seemed reluctant to answer the Joker's question. The Joker gave him a cold stare from underneath his brow with a tilt to his head. Cobblepot gave way. "Here, backroom, two weeks from today," he said, quietly.

The Joker grinned and reached over, clapping him on the shoulder. I think the Joker hit him hard on purpose because as the Penguin almost fall over from the force, the Joker burst out laughing as he turned and walked away from the bar. "C'mon, boys!" he called. Then, he raised his hands up and to the side, clapping them together several times. "_Sha_-dow!

I glanced at the Penguin to see him scanning the room, but I faded into my shadow state, smirking as I bounded to the Joker's side, being wary of the lit areas since they would reveal my melded form.

As we all headed back to the car where Peter waited in the driver's seat, I solidified beside the Joker and asked, "What did you ask him?"

"A question," the Joker responded, with a straight face.

"Ha-ha, so _funny_," I said, sarcastically as I rolled my eyes. "You guys have an appointment or something in two weeks, here, at the Lounge?"

Before I could blink, the Joker had me shoved against the outside wall of Iceberg Lounge, his face looming into mine. Bob and Dave continued past us, like we weren't even there, climbing into the car without waiting for us.

"I'll let-ah you know when I _want_ you to know," the Joker growled.

"Sorry," I mumbled, lowering my eyes like a coward.

He gave me a sidelook as he licked his lips, sucking on the inside of his cheek. The Joker stepped back a few steps, narrowing his eyes at me, but I didn't see any anger in his eyes. "You know what-ah I've _noticed_," the Joker began. "You seem to have _confidence_ issues."

"What makes you say that?" I asked, pushing myself away from the wall.

He chewed on his cheek, his eyes moving around as he thought of how to put it. When he didn't respond within the usual two seconds, I grew worried.

"Do you _want_ me to be confident at all times?" I asked, to prompt him into coming up with an answer.

"Well, no…maybe it's _mood_-swings that-ah you have a _prob_-lem with." He refused to make eye-contract, his eyes to busy darting about the back alley.

_That_ irritated me. That he didn't want to look me in the eyes and tell me. "Do _you_ have a problem with my mood-swings?" I demanded.

The Joker gave me a plain look, and I shut my mouth, becoming solemn. "_That's_ what-ah I _mean_!" he exclaimed. "It's like…" He waved his hands around, trying to think of the word. "Like you don't _have_ a solid _form_."

"Solid? As in my shadow form or my flesh and blood form?"

"_No!_" he growled, and I stepped back. He sauntered over to me, pushing me back into the wall. "I just don't _get_ how you could've survived with the Mob for as many years as you have," he snarled. One after the other, he smashed his palms into the wall on either side of my head, each hit creating a sound loud enough to make me flinch. "It's like you are two sides of, ah, of the _same coin_!"

With the Joker yelling at me, I winced, cowering against the wall, wishing desperately that I could slip into my shadow state and move backward through the wall to escape.

The Joker blinked, and his quick breathing calmed. "Just like _Harvey_," he whispered, his eyes wide, his gaze over my head.

"Harvey?" I asked, delicately. I didn't want the Joker to start yelling at me again, but my curiosity _had_ to be satisfied.

"The District Attorney, a year ago," the Joker explained, still making the same expression at the wall. "He had this _thing_ about-ah being _called on_. Had to flip a coin for _every…decision._" The Joker suddenly grabbed me by my jacket, and he lifted me from the ground, still pressing me against the wall, lifting me until we were eye level.

His eyes hardened as they met mine, and I squirmed, afraid that he was going to hurt me. "Stop _struggling_, Shadow!" he barked, and I obeyed. "You gamble with _two _personalities, Shadow. One I'm guessing is, ah, is from the _past_, while the other is what-ah your _father_ created." I narrowed my eyes, and his expression lightened up, a grin appearing on his face. "Bringing up your _dad_ makes you _angry_?"

"Are you _testing_ me?" I asked, coldly. "What's your problem with my duel personalities? They're not personalities; they're called _moods_, _emotions_. Even _you_ have them."

"I've got-ah a quick _temper_ now and then," the Joker said, shrugging it off. "Who irritates you the most-ah?"

"You," I replied, harshly.

"Be-_sides_ me, Shadow." He placed me on my feet, but didn't relax his grip on my jacket. "C'mon, Shadow, you can _tell_ me," he said. "Out-ah of my guys, who do you _dis_-like the most?"

I continued to glare at him as I thought about it. I hadn't gotten to know any of the Joker's men since they didn't last that long anyway. Out of the _living_ guys, I liked Dean, or "Bleak" to the Joker, and Cory from the poker night. Peter, I was too cautious around him since he seemed to dislike me for some reason. Dave hadn't done anything but hold me on my first night with the Joker, to keep me from running away. If I could have a grudge, it'd be against Dave.

No, the one who irritated me the most, or at least the one I disliked, was…

"Bob," I replied, "Since I first laid eyes on him, at The Stacked Deck-."

"Ah, I _remember_ that-ah," the Joker said, dreamily as his eyes moved skyward. "You're _first_-ah success at es-_cap_-ing from me." He grinned as he moved away from me, his head tilted back as he searched the sky. For a few seconds, he remained that way before his grin gradually faded. "Shadow, tell Peter to, ah, to start the car," he said, his tone suddenly serious.

Since the Joker wasn't always this serious, I didn't hesitate to question him. I moved over to the car, and when Peter turned his head, seeing me, I jerked my hand in the "starting the engine" gesture. I even added a jerk of my head back in the direction of the Joker to enhance my order. Peter narrowed his eyes, but he obeyed, turning the key in the ignition.

I placed my hand on the door handle and half-turned, watching the Joker as he took several steps back, still looking overhead.

Abruptly, the Joker broke into a run toward the car. Seeing him, I opened the door, and he yelled at me, "Get in! Get in!" I jumped in, and he dived in after me. Peter slammed on the gas before the door close, and the Joker would have been thrown back out if I hadn't grabbed him around the waist, digging my feet underneath the front seats to anchor us.

Peter swerved to the left, throwing the Joker into the car, over me and Dave, causing the Joker to swear. I had to free my arm from underneath the Joker's weight before reaching over and pulling the door closed. The Joker righted himself by gripping the handle over the door, and he twisted his neck violently so that he could look out the back. Curious, I too looked back, but I only saw a black form drop from the sky, landing heavily on the street before Peter drove around a corner and away.

"Who _was_ that?" I asked, my pitch a little higher than usual.

"I have _two_ guesses," the Joker said. He looked at me with a curious expression. "Are you all _right_-ah?"

"I'm fine, why?"

"You sounded…high-pitched for a, ah, a sec."

"It happens sometimes, when I get excited," I said quickly. "What are your two guesses?"

"Don't-ah _you_ have a guess?" the Joker asked.

"Yeah."

"You first-ah."

I rolled my eyes and said, "The flying rodent."

"That's _one_ of _my_ guesses."

"What's the other?"

The Joker looked behind again before saying, "Your bird friend."

I gave a dry laugh. "Yeah, the Penguin's so heavy that he can't flap his wings hard or _fast_ enough to get him off the ground."

The Joker cuffed me, sharply. "Not _him_," he growled, but when I looked up at him, his expression revealed his amusement. "But-ah that's a _good_ one." He looked out the back for a few moments before giggling, which I thought was a delayed reaction to my sly remark about Cobblepot's obesity.

The Joker settled himself into his seat, still holding onto the handle. "Take a round-ah-bout route," he told Peter. "_Just_ in case." He looked at me, grinning. "How 'bout a gamble, Shadow? Your guess against-ah mine. You win, you get-ah a day _off_ from me. I win…you owe me a question answered _truthfully_ and _fully_."

I looked at him, suspiciously. "Fifty-fifty chance?" I asked. He nodded, and we shook on it.

Our roundabout route consisted of driving around the East End. Whenever we passed a location that had _some_ significance to the Joker, he would point it out to me. He wouldn't give me an explanation, even when I asked for one, but instead, he would give me a look and then his eyes were dart about the car before returning to me. It seemed like he wanted to keep my "education" a secret.

After half an hour of driving around for no particular reason – the Joker claimed it was to lose whoever was following us, but I doubted it – we returned to the apartment. Bob and Dave got out immediately and headed inside while the Joker took his time stepping out.

His head whipped around as he scanned the surrounding area, acting like a watch dog, and he waited in the cardoor, leaning on it so that I had to climb through to the other side to get out. For some unknown reason, I ducked down as I climbed out, closing the door and sneaking around the car until I was on the Joker's side; _then_ I straightened. Peter, who was waiting by the apartment backdoor, looked at me strangely, confused by my ducking around the car, but I just gave him a look, making him look away.

Suddenly, I had a loud _thud_ and a grunt beside me, and I turned my head. The Joker was up against the car with both of his hands behind his back, his arms up high in what would be an armlock…if there was a person standing behind him. It looked like some invisible force was holding him captive, the way his head was smashed into the car.

Instantly, I tweaked on my shadow vision, and through the purple haze, I recognized a bluish outline of Raven holding the Joker in a painful double armlock. I moved forward and yanked her off him, throwing her to the ground. Raven caught herself in a rolling handstand, and she twisted as she pushed off the ground, coming back to her feet, facing me.

I placed myself between her and the Joker who had quickly regained his composure. Holding up both hands defensively, I said, "Raven, what's this all about?"

She didn't speak, only glanced over her shoulder toward Peter, who held his gun aimed in our general direction.

A gunshot ricocheted off the alley's walls, and the Joker barked, "Get inside, Peter!" Watching over Raven's shoulder, I saw Peter duck inside like a frightened rabbit.

"Very bossy, aren't you, Joker?" Raven asked, appearing solidly, and I switched off my shadow vision to see her a bit more clearly.

"Speak for, ah, _yourself_," the Joker snapped as he lowered the semiautomatic he had used to frighten Peter. "What's with the attacking from, ah, from be-_hind_, Raven? Did you turn coward overnight-ah?"

"I could ask you the same _thing_," Raven retorted. "You ran away from me earlier."

I groaned out loud as the Joker jumped up, punching the air with a 'YES!'. Raven gave us a confused look. "We were betting on who was chasing him," I explained, "And I lost the bet." And I believed deeply that I was going to regret it, since now the Joker could ask a question – any _type_ of question – that I _had_ to answer truthfully, and in detail.

"What-ah do you want, Raven?" the Joker asked, stealing her attention.

Raven glared at him as she placed a hand on her hip. "You still own me a _favor_, Joker," she said, coldly.

The Joker rolled his eyes as he leaned back against the car, crossing his arms across his chest. He even crossed his ankles to make him look more at ease. "And I'm guessing you've de-_ci_-ded on what-ah I was going to _do_ for your favor," he stated, calmly.

"I thought of it the moment I told you that you owed me one for giving you directions to Shadow." She glanced at me for a second, but I only shrugged, to show her my indifference to the fact that she had aided the Joker in finding me, despite how I still felt hurt from her betrayal before we had even become friends. "You're aware that the meeting's in two weeks time, correct?"

"Got it-ah from Ab-Penguin," he corrected himself. "Good to know that-ah he didn't _lie_ to me."

"I figured you'd ask him, especially after dealing with the unsuccessful bank robbery."

The Joker narrowed his eyes. "Raven, I wouldn't've labeled you as a _stalker_, but-ah it seems like I'm gonna have to, ah, to _add_ that to the list-ah."

"I wasn't _stalking_," Raven snapped, insulted. "I was watching out for Shadow here." She gestured in my direction, making the Joker's attention turn to me before returning to her. "I've never really _trusted_ you, _especially_ when it comes to Shadow."

"Being pro-_tec_-tive?" the Joker asked, arching an eyebrow, his mouth twitching with amusement.

Raven's struggle to contain her anger was subtle, but from the tightening of her fists, I could read her frustration. "Joker, you know it's been a few months since my boss was free."

"Don't-ah play with the 'boss' word. I'm _aware_ of, ah, of your _real_ relationship with him." The Joker snickered at Raven's cold glare. "State your 'favor'."

"I want you to help me break him out of the asylum."

The Joker was overcome by a fit of hysterical laughter. He laughed so hard that he doubled over, his hands on his knees to keep him from falling. His entire frame shook with his giggles, and he took sharp intakes of breaths, only to burst with another fit of laughter. Raven and I stood there, looking at one another; her with a confused look and me shrugging and shaking my head.

Finally, the Joker straightened, regaining his composure, and he smoothed down his shirt and vest underneath his jacket. He heaved a deep sigh, his eyes turned skyward. Then, he lowered his head and jerked it to the side, cracking his neck loudly, rolling his hunched shoulders before he turned his attention to Raven, grinning widely.

"When do you want-ah me?" the Joker asked, seriously.

Raven blinked, taken aback by his sudden mood change, but she said, "Before the meeting."

The Joker snapped his fingers in my direction, motioning me forward, and I stepped toward him. "Give me a week," he told Raven. "Shadow's going to, ah, to be my equivalent to what-ah _you_ are."

Raven smiled. "Interesting," she said. "A week."

"At _least_-ah," he insisted, and she nodded, reaching out her hand. The Joker took it, and they sealed the deal. "C'mon, Shadow," he said, walking past Raven, toward the apartment door.

"Mind if _I_ talk to Raven for a few minutes?" I asked. He stopped, half-turned, and gave me a look before nodding and heading back to the apartment.

"Call me when you're ready!" Raven called after him, which he seemed to have caught but made no attempt to give any notion that he had heard her. Raven and I watched him as he hopped up the back steps and walked inside without a glance back at me.

"He seems to trust you enough," Raven remarked.

"I'm not worthy of any kind of trust," I said. "I backstab too often."

"Not with the Joker," she said, turning to me. I looked at her curiously, and she gave me an encouraging look. "The Joker most likely to see you come from a mile away, and he'll get you before you get _him_." She smiled easily. "So, the Joker's taking on an _apprentice_," she stated, frivolously. "How _exciting_. You _want_ to be his partner-in-crime?"

I grinned sheepishly as I shrugged. "We've only know each other for eight days, yet it seems like…we've known one another for longer." I shrugged again. "I don't _mind_ him. I haven't even worked for him, besides the bank robbery, and I think he'll be my top boss out of all the Mobsters I've worked for."

"He's killed the top Mobsters in Gotham," Raven said.

"I know. One reason why I like him the most."

Raven nodded. "I won't keep him waiting," she said as she reached behind her with a hand. She took out a sheath, which surprised me until I recognized the hilt of a certain dagger I had seen on my first night in Gotham. "I thought I'd give it to you, as a memory from the first time we met." Raven winked and held it out.

I took it carefully. "The Joker likes knives…"

"And longer knives seem to fit your personality, once it's formed."

I looked at her, confused. "The Joker seems to have been trying to tell me something like that. He claimed I didn't have a solid _form_."

"Sometimes I wonder if he secretly idolizes the Riddler, the way he talks gibberish," Raven said, rolling her eyes. "When I first met you, I could sense uncertainty. I don't mean to sound like some old wise woman, but I'm only being honest. It could have to do with whatever happened in your past. As a criminal, I think you've come to the right city in order to find yourself." She laughed at herself. "I really _do_ sound like an old woman." She reached over and patted my shoulder. "I've got business to attend to so I better run."

"Are you sure you're not just running away?" I asked, teasingly. She laughed and hugged me. I was so surprised that it took me a few moments before I returned the hug. Then, she released me and started running out of the alley, disappearing into invisibility before she left.

I smiled and after slamming closed the door that had been open throughout the entire scene, I turned and walked into the apartment.

I couldn't help but cry out in fright as I entered. The light from outside lit up the hallway toward the front of the apartment building, and the Joker happened to be standing at the edge of that light, his white face glowing in the dark. Catching my reaction, the Joker started giggling as he sauntered toward me.

"Scared yah, didn't I?" he chuckled as he wrapped an arm around my waist. He brought his mouth close to my ear, and he whispered, "We're two of a kind, Shadow, yet-ah we're _diff_-erent in how we _react_-ah to the world."

"How's that?" I asked, curiously.

"I find the world's faults _laughable_. People try to control their _little_ worlds with their 'plans'. They take things too _seriously_. _You_, on the other hand, simply _toy_ with the world's faults. You're aware of them, but-ah you don't do much to _change_ them. Even though you're not a 'guardian' like Batman, you're just. As. _Serious_."

He tightened his hold on me, and I winced, worried that he was going to hurt me. But he was only toying with me.

"You obviously have a problem with that," I told him, and he laughed. "Such a funny man, can't stand a serious woman."

"_Har_-dly," the Joker chuckled, "You just-ah don't _know_ how to let go and _laugh_." I stared at him in disbelief. Even though I knew I had told him my past, it made me angry that he was stating the obvious in such a bold statement. He _had_ to be aware that he was walking the edge; he simply didn't _care_.

* * *

**Lordlink13: I just want you guys to know that I have **_**nothing**_** against fat people. I read **_**Garfield**_** and I laugh at his jokes about skinny people so don't think I don't like fat people. If I offended anyone, I'm sorry; I didn't **_**intend**_** to offend you. Now that **_**that's**_** settled…hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Sorry it was a day late; my older sister had taken the laptop and I couldn't access another computer with Internet. _And_ I was recovering from almost drowning on Saturday while White Water Rafting. It was fun, until I went in. I'm okay, just sore and tired. So yeah, anyway, this chapter wasn't as hard as I thought it would be…merely because I decided to make the story changer the next chapter. Go figure, there's me procrastinating. Well, until next chapter, leave a review…a****diós amigos****! And no, I've never taken Spanish…**


	17. Rigged To Blow

I'll admit that it is rare that I take time to reflect on the past, and whenever I do, I feel the odd emotion of regret over who I _could_ have been, where I _could_ be right now, had things been different. Over the years, doors have closed behind me, and I always have looked longingly to go back but only reluctantly turned away, to move toward the opened door. The rare times I reflected on the past, I would imagine what had happened and how I would have changed it, had I had the power. 'If only'…were the saddest two words in the world.

Eight days plus six, makes for fourteen days, two weeks. I had been with the Joker for two weeks, and for six days, he's kept me busy, learning my way around Gotham City, stalking the other criminal masterminds but never making a close contact like with the Penguin. The Joker – as creative as he is – tested every little thing I was capable of doing; timing me picking a lock, checking my aim, testing my hand-to-hand combat skills…that latter was interesting, since no matter _what_ I did, the Joker always won.

He kept me so busy that I hardly had time to think. I discovered that the Joker, when working on something, won't stop until he's done with it, though because I have passed out from exhaustion a number of times in the first three days, he was forced to stop, something he made clear to me that he did _not_ like.

It's like trying to break the habit of smoking. It's the worst the first three days, but after that, it's a bit easier. Same thing with me and the Joker's unlimited rush of adrenaline. Sometimes, I wondered if I had found a way to tune into his energy to keep me going when he was only beginning.

He asked Raven for at _least_ a week to instruct me, but he finished with me a day early, not like he was going to tell Raven that he was done early. The Joker could be rather selfish on occasion.

The Joker shifted beside me in the bed, and his arm fell over my waist. He had only started doing this four nights ago, moving closer to me in his sleep, and even though I pushed him away in the beginning, I had given up, figuring he was going to do it anyway, and there wasn't anything else I could do.

I simply adjusted the position of my arm, where it was falling asleep and going numb before I let my mind wander again, thinking of the past, reflecting…_regretting_.

"You should, ah, be _sleeping_, Shadow," the Joker murmured behind my head. "Rather than thinking so, ah, so _loud_-ly."

I knew the Joker was awake. He never talked in his sleep, only giggled every once in awhile, depending on what he was dreaming about. The first time I had heard him giggling, it had entered my dream, and I woke up, fully believing that he was about to kill me for the fun of it.

"What _else_ am I supposed to do?" I asked, quietly. "I can't sleep."

"Too much sun getting through the, ah, the blinds?"

"No…I just can't stop…thinking."

I felt the Joker's other arm slip underneath my body, coming around and meeting his draped arm, pulling me into him. He moved his body, bringing his head up, resting it on mine. "I'm all ears, if, ah, if you want to _talk_ about anything," he told me.

I felt reluctant to share my thoughts with the Joker, but I've had to do this a few times in my life or I'd lie awake all night. Even just talking out loud helped, there didn't have to _be_ someone listening. But I _have_ tried talking to myself about my regrets, and I'd always lie awake afterward, so it guess it wouldn't kill me to tell the Joker and see if he would talk back.

"It's rare, but I sometimes remember the past, of the things I did, and I regret it," I said, meekly.

"To regret something is to, ah, to hang yourself with your _own_ noose," the Joker said. "Mental suicide."

"Sounds like a quote."

"It-ah _is_."

I sighed. "You might be the wrong guy to ask this, but have you ever regretted anything in your life, regretted something you did or something you _didn't_ do?" I asked quietly.

"Why would you think that-ah _I_'d be the wrong guy?"

"I've learned in the past two weeks that you're not a guy of yesterday or tomorrow. You're all about today. You don't worry about what has happened or what _will_ happen. In other words, I doubt you have regrets."

"_Sha_-dow…_every_-one has re-_grets_." The Joker rolled away from me onto his back, leaving only his arm underneath me. "Even a guy like me."

I rolled onto my back, moving over his arm, and shifted so that I lied on my side, facing him. "You're lying."

"No, I'm _not_-ah." He turned his head to look at me, sliding his tongue slowly over his scarred lips. "You thought-ah I'd be one of those people who _claim_ they don't-ah have regrets because they've lived their lives the way they had _planned_. I didn't-ah _plan_ to have my mouth ripped _open_!" The sharpness in his angry voice scared me, and I cowered slightly.

Then, the Joker rested his head back, staring at the ceiling, seemingly calm.

"Do you hate having the scars?" I asked, quietly.

"I _thought_ I did, when I was _young_-er." The Joker lifted a hand and touched one of his rough scars. "But-ah…it's obvious now that I don't-ah _mind_ having them. They complete my image." He fell silent for a few minutes, to the point that I thought he had fallen asleep again. Then, he turned his head back to me before rolling to his side and raising a hand to my face, brushing my hair behind my ear. "No, my biggest regret-ah…is having _left_ my…" He trailed off, a look of uncertainty crossing his face.

The strange gleam in his eyes showed some emotion, flashing hesitantly. I had seen it a number of times, but as always, it puzzled me. For the second or two that I saw it, it gave me the impression that the Joker was concealing something from me, hiding something he _wanted_ to reveal, but couldn't bring himself to expose it. And since only _I_ seemed to be able to make that gleam come forth, it had to be something he wanted to tell me, but was too anxious to.

Like before, the glint disappeared, and the Joker slipped out of bed, moving over to the bathroom. "You thirsty?" he asked over his shoulder as he flicked on the light.

I blinked against the light before covering my eyes with my hand. "Yeah," I said before sighing. Something was bothering me about how the Joker sometimes seemed…_normal_. I had to admit that we had formed a relatively natural relationship in the two weeks we had been one another's company, despite me trying to escape from him once or twice. We knew each other's background stories. I guess it would seem normal for someone to start revealing more about themselves with others that they have gotten used to be around.

Why does the Joker have to be an expectation?

"You know what-ah I've _noticed_," the Joker said, returning with a glass of water which he set on the nightstand. "You seem to have _confidence_ issues."

The shift in conversation startled me a bit before I caught on. "What makes you say that?" I asked.

He chewed on his cheek, his eyes moving around as he thought of how to put it. When he didn't respond within the usual two seconds, I grew worried.

"Do you _want_ me to be confident at all times?" I asked, to prompt him into coming up with an answer.

"Well, no…maybe it's _mood_-swings that-ah you have a _prob_-lem with." He refused to make eye-contract, his eyes to busy darting about the room.

_That_ irritated me, that he didn't want to face me. "Do _you_ have a problem with my mood-swings?" I demanded.

The Joker gave me a plain look, and I shut my mouth, becoming solemn. "_That's_ what-ah I _mean_!" he exclaimed. "It's like…" He waved his hands around, trying to think of the word. "Like you don't _have_ a solid _form_."

"Solid? As in my shadow form and my flesh and blood form?"

"_No!_" he growled, lunging forward and dragging me off the bed. I managed to get my feet on the ground, slipping out of his grasp and stepping away from him. He sauntered over to me, pushing me against the wall. "I just don't-ah _get_ how you could've sur-_vi_-ved with the Mob for as many years as you have," he snarled. One after the other, he smashed his palms into the wall on either side of my head, each hit creating a sound loud enough to make me flinch. "It's like you are two sides of, ah, of the _same coin_!"

With the Joker yelling at me, I winced, cowering against the wall, wishing desperately that I could slip into my shadow state and move backward through the wall to escape.

The Joker blinked, and his quick breathing calmed. "Just like _Harvey_," he whispered, his eyes wide, his gaze over my head.

"Harvey?" I asked, delicately. I didn't want the Joker to start yelling at me again, but my curiosity _had_ to be satisfied.

"The District Attorney, a year ago," the Joker explained, still making the same expression at the wall. "He had this _thing_ about-ah being _called on_. Had to flip a coin for _every…decision._" The Joker suddenly grabbed me by my jacket, and he lifted me from the ground, still pressing me against the wall, lifting me until we were eye level.

His eyes hardened as they met mine, and I squirmed, afraid that he was going to hurt me. "Stop _struggling_, Shadow!" he barked, and I obeyed. "You gamble with _two _personalities, Shadow. One I'm guessing is, ah, is from the _past_, while the other is what-ah your _father_ created."

I narrowed my eyes at him, and his expression lightened up, a grin appearing on his face. "Bringing up your _dad_ makes you _angry_?"

"Are you _testing_ me?" I asked, coldly. "What's your problem with my duel personalities? They're not personalities; they're called _moods_, _emotions_. Even _you_ have them."

"I've got-ah a quick _temper_ now and then," the Joker said casually, shrugging it off. "Who irritates you the most-ah?"

"You," I replied, harshly.

"Be-_sides_ me, Shadow." I continued to glare at him, and he matched my gaze, a smile creeping onto his face. He pushed himself off the wall and went over to grab the glass of water. "I think I have a _guess_," he said, handing me the water.

Without thinking, I took it and brought it up, but the Joker caught my wrist. "You've al-_ready_ smashed glass on my head, Shadow. Try something _new_ for _once_!" He tightened his grip on my wrist and then slammed the glass down on my own head.

The pain was enough to make my knees buckle under my weight. I slid down along the wall, just as the Joker grabbed my chin, shoving something into my mouth. I tried to spit it out, but he covered my mouth, plugging my nose too. I choked, unable to breath or to get rid of whatever the Joker had given me. I didn't want it.

"Swallow it, Shadow," he growled, ignoring my flailing hands as I struck him many times. He pushed me down onto the ground and straddled me, still covering my mouth and nose. I suffocated, trying to breath but trying to avoid swallowing the small object on my tongue.

My lungs burned, and I was on the verge of crying, realizing that the Joker was going to suffocate me to death unless I did what he wanted. I dropped my arms, losing the strength to hit him, and I simply turned a pleading gaze on him. He saw it, and for a split second, his eyes softened.

The Joker hardened himself against my pleading, and he told me once more, "Swallow it or die, Shadow!"

Seeing that my situation was not good either way, but wishing greatly to live, I swallowed the object dry, nearly choking on it before it went down.

The Joker released me, and I coughed before gulping in air. My throat burned with the oxygen, and I didn't move, concentrating on breathing and getting oxygen to my starved blood cells. I was vaguely aware of the Joker leaving my side and returning a few moments later, helping me sit up, leaning me against the wall.

Cold glass touched my lips, and I jerked my head away. The Joker gripped my chin firmly and turned me back, tilting the glass and letting water slip into my dry mouth. I swallowed it, gasping afterward.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall. I felt drowsiness, and even as my body began shutting down, I opened my eyes and tried glaring at the Joker.

"Don't-ah take it _personally_, Shadow," the Joker said, his voice sounding echoic and soothing, despite the amusement. "But-ah it's more _fun_ this way." He ended with a giggle as I drifted off into a drugged sleep.

When I awoke, I was tied to a metal pole in a dark room, sitting on a cold cement floor. I felt groggy; feeling the sleepiness from the drug the Joker had given me. His last words echoed in my mind, and I stiffened, my mind coming up with the worst situation. Had he taken advantage of me?

Then, I heard the ping of a P.A. and then the Joker's voice rung out. "Rise and shine, _Sha_-dow."

"If you happened to _touch_ me," I spat.

"No-no-no-no-_no_! I'm _not_-ah that kinda guy, Shadow, no worries."

"Just because of what you said _before_ I fell unconscious, I don't _believe_ you."

"I didn't-ah _think_ you'd take that the wrong _way_." The Joker sighed. "I _promise_, I never _touched_ you. I'm a man of my _word_."

I growled, reluctantly letting it go…for now. "Fine, where am I?"

"Good question. You're in a factory, rigged to, ah, to _blow_ in ten minutes. Mind you, it's filled with all _sorts_ of chemicals so it's only a _mat_-ter of _lighting up_. I'm looking forward to, ah, to the _fireworks_."

"You _would_," I murmured. "Why am _I_ the victim?"

"Oh no, the _vic_-tim is somewhere _else_ in the place. _You'll_ have to, ah, to _find_ him."

"So how come _I'm_ tied up?" I demanded.

"That's to ensure that-ah you aren't _going_ anywhere until I've told you the _rules_. Think of this as a _game_, Shadow. You're the hero, the victim is the _villain_. Kill the villain, you get-ah the key to get-ah _out_. Of course, you have to, ah, to remember you only have ten minutes, _tech_-nically nine now. Be creative, Shadow. I'll be _watch_-ing." With a _ping_, the P.A. cut off.

I cursed angrily under my breath as I switched on my shadow vision, finding the dagger Raven had given me at my hip through the purple haze. How did my being unable to sleep lead to my being tied up in a building rigged to blow? With the chemicals in this place, I could just imagine all the colors that the explosion will create. The Joker would be jumping up and down like a kid, clapping his hands in excitement while laughing hysterically.

I freed myself from my bounds and stood slowly, my muscles still half-drugged. I looked around, searching for a door, and when I located it, I headed over slowly, giving my body time to wake up.

I left the dark room, appearing in a large room filled with tanks, pipes, and puffs of smoke here and there. It was _definitely_ a factory, and I have to admit that it scared me. It was scary to know that if you lit a small flame, the entire place might blow. From the outside, it would look cool, but from the inside, it was just _frightening_.

I wandered a bit, ducking under pipes and moving through the smoke, or steam, whatever it was, fog for all I knew. Over my head was a series of metal walkways, and I looked for a staircase up, thinking that height might be able to give me a better view of where the exit might be. I had less than nine minutes at this point, and even though that was better than something else than five, I felt my heart pounding rapidly in my chest.

I found a metal staircase and made my way up, looking around at the series of machines that dealt with the chemicals this place was loaded with. I jumped out of fright when I heard the ping of the P.A. again, and I heard the Joker chuckle, amused.

"Sounds don't-ah set off explosions, Shadow," he teased me, and I growled. "I can tell that-ah you're looking for an exit. You're not-ah going to _find_ one until you've dealt with the _vic_-tim."

"And you expect me to find the victim _and_ escape in eight minutes?" I demanded. "Finding the victim in a large place like this would take time and careful searching."

"Well…you don't-ah _have_ time to search _care_-fully so…tell you what. If you follow the walk you're on, you'll come by a phone. Call the police and play the victim, since the victim doesn't-ah _know_ that's what he is. In return, I'll reset-ah the bomb and give you some extra _min_-utes."

"Oh, you're so _kind_," I said, sarcastically.

"Aren't-ah I?" the Joker asked, amused before he cut off the P.A.

The offer of extra minutes was tempting. I followed along the walkway and found the phone that the Joker had mentioned. Picking it up, I dialed 911 and waited.

A woman picked up on the other end. "911. What's your emergency?" She sounded so calm and professional that I was tempted to laugh.

"Um, I'm in some factory that seems to be filled with chemicals, and I can't get out."

"Do you know what the name of the factory is?" the woman asked.

I heard a sharp beep in my ear, and I heard the Joker's voice speaking. "The woman's at Ace Chemicals Factory and it's rigged to, ah, to blow within thirteen minutes. Might-ah want to send a few squad cars before the place goes." The Joker laughed menacingly, and then the line cut out.

"What's up with you and laughing right before you hang _up_?" I demanded, angrily as I slammed the phone down on the receiver. The ping came again, and the Joker laughed.

"You _real_-ly need to, ah, to loosen up, Shadow," he said.

"I _can't_!" I snapped. "I'm gonna _die_ if I don't get out of here." I hurried along the walkway, looking down below, searching for the "victim". "Why'd you choose a place that had a playing card for a name?" I asked loudly.

"Just-ah so they know it's me," the Joker explained before cutting off.

I ran along the metal walkway, searching hard for any movement besides me, and I wasn't aware of the metal rod sticking out behind a supporting pillar of the ceiling. I ran straight into it, hitting my head and falling backwards onto my back. "Ow," was all I could say as I touched my throbbing head with a hand.

I grabbed onto the railing to steady myself as I stood up. Through the beginnings of a headache, I heard a heavy footstep on the metal walkway behind me, and I spun around.

A heavy-set man with a clown mask stood behind me, holding a metal rod like he was about to swing it. I ducked as he swung it, and I had to repeat the duck as the man changed direction, aiming for my head like it was a baseball.

I came up with my palm open, smacking under his jaw and jerking his head up and back. I followed with a quick punch in the stomach. He grunted in pain as he fell backwards, grabbing the railing for support. I took a moment to get a mental picture of him before turning and running.

I recognized the figure and replaced the clown mask with the face of the man I knew. It was Bob, the one the Joker had to have guessed irritated me the most, besides himself.

How right, the Joker was.

I heard a gunshot and felt a bite grazing my shoulder. I ducked behind a supporting pillar, reaching for my gun, only to find that I didn't have one. Gripping my hurting shoulder, and cursing under my breath, I retrieved my dagger, wishing I had a gun. Bob was armed with a rod and a gun while I only had myself and the dagger Raven had given me. The guy even had the advantage of strength over me. Who was going to survive?

I flinched as Bob shot at the pillar, as if hoping the bullet would go through the metal and hit me behind it. Note to self: If you survive, remember to inflict as much pain on the Joker as you have suffered trying to keep alive.

"C'mon, _Shadow_," Bob called, taunting me by mocking my name. "The boss doesn't _like_ cowards."

"_Good_," I called back. "Maybe that's why he ordered me to take you out."

"Funny, he told me something similar." Bob shot three times in rapid succession, making me flinch each time.

"Maybe you should save the bullets," I told him.

"That's a good idea. _Thank_-you, _Shadow_."

I clenched my teeth angrily while I searched for another hiding spot. Being up on the walkways was awful; only the pillars provided some protection. I looked down below, but I didn't want to be down there if Bob was shooting at me. He'd hit a tank of chemicals, and I could be bleached different colors. Oh, wouldn't that be _perfect_ if my skin turned white, and my hair turned green. Ha-ha, then I'd _really_ be the Joker's partner-in-crime, being identical to him!

"Peek-a-boo!" Bob said right by me, and I threw myself forward, narrowly avoiding death as Bob shot where I had been resting. I rolled to my feet and ran for it, only to vault over the railing and fall down to the floor below as Bob shot several times after me. He got me again in the leg, and I tripped, sliding underneath a series of pipes, disappearing from his view.

My heart pounded furiously in my chest as I watched him through a slit between two small pipes. I checked my shoulder, seeing that it only hurt and wasn't bleeding too much, but my leg bled and needed my attention.

I was wearing the outfit that the Joker had created for me. The material was leather, not cloth, so I could be in trouble with the bleeding. I searched my pockets, but found nothing that I could use. Looking behind me, I saw the door to the locker room. Wow, just my luck.

Double-checking to make sure that Bob was out of view, I clenched my teeth and gasped against the pain before making a break for the locker room. I came back out after tying a ripped uniform around my leg, hoping that there were no chemicals on it that might get into my bloodstream and cause problems. I was even fortunate enough to discover a hidden gun in the locker of the person I stole the bandage from, one that only had six shots. _There_ was my misfortune.

I moved along the pipes, keeping my eyes sharp for movement. Using my shadow sight, and tweaking it a bit, I could see shadows, like infrared vision where you could see body heat. With the place being dark, it was hard to distinguish the shadows. I needed to find a light, but did I have time?

I glanced at my watch and realized that it was set to show how much time I had left before the bomb exploded. Seven and a half minutes. I groaned inwardly, and then I smirked. The Joker had said that I wasn't allowed to shadow away; he didn't say that I couldn't shadow around the place as long as I remained _inside_.

I hadn't been to Ace Chemical Factory before, but I _had_ been up on the walkways. I shadowed up there to search the walls for a door where there might be a light switch. I placed my back against a supporting pillar to make sure I had _some_ cover while I looked, and it wasn't hard for me to locate the light switch.

I shadowed to it and flicked it on, tweaking my shadow sight again. There were still many shadows, but it wasn't hard to distinguish the pipes and machines and vaults from the human shaped shadow that _moved_.

I shadowed behind Bob with a good three feet between us so that he didn't sense my presence right away. "Looking for me?" I asked, grinning.

I underestimated the guy's speed. Bob spun, swinging the rod, and even though I ducked, he still clipped me on the side of the head. The force was hard enough to knock me off balance, and before I knew it, Bob was on me, beating me with the rod several times.

I cried out in pain as I dropped to the ground. The hits were hard and painful, and I raised my arms over my head to protect it from severe damage. He hit me everywhere he could reach, even going as far as to dig an end of the rod into my stomach where I choked and screamed in agony. It went on for what seemed like forever for me.

Bob laughed as he stepped back, examining his work. "I never liked you, Shadow," he said as I gasped against the pain, having trouble breathing. "But I'm not a guy to kill women. Besides, the boss has this place set up to blow. He would _love_ to have the pleasure in killing you. Now, you won't make it out in that condition."

I glared at him and growled. "Don't underestimate me," I told him. "But why am I telling you that since this will be your last time?"

Bob laughed and kicked me in the chest, knocking the wind out of me. "Enough of you, be quiet and wait for the fireworks." He chuckled and abandoned me, walking away and swinging his rod cheerily.

Somehow, I found the strength to stand, groaning as my body protested. I was going to be covered in bruises and might die of internal bleeding, but there was _one_ thing I wanted to do, if I was to die here.

"You know, _Bobby_," I said. Bob turned around, angrily. "You're too _stupid_ for the Joker to keep. Hence why, I'll be _relieving_ the boss of your burden." I smirked as Bob raised his gun. "Too slow," I said, and fired my weapon that raised in my hand on the railing.

The shot ricocheted as the bullet hit Bob, the force throwing him off his feet and backwards, landing hard on his back. I didn't want him coming after me so I fired two more shots before deciding that the man was dead.

I gasped in pain as I leaned heavily against the metal railing, and I glanced at my watch. It was less than a minute, counting down from twenty seconds. A rush of adrenaline pulsed through my veins and I looked around quickly, ignoring my body's agony. I caught sight of a window that was a distance away from the walkway. I calculated as I started running, gasping violently with the pain.

The seconds ticked down as everything seemed to go in slow motion. I had all the time in the world. I ran as hard as I could toward the bend of the walkway, nearing the edge and pushing off hard from my back foot. I jumped up toward the railing and hoped that I didn't miss it.

The seconds ticked off. Ten. Nine. My front foot landed square on the railing, and I pushed off the metal as I swung my other leg forward to give me more momentum. Eight. Seven. I sailed through the air, hoping I had enough momentum to take me out the window. Six. Five. I was starting to fall, yet I still hadn't reached the window. I was going to hit the wall, not the window. Hoping my momentum continued, I shadowed up a foot. Four. Three. My momentum continued and I hit the glass, my force shattering it as I went through. Two. One.

A split second of silence. Shattering glass. The bomb going off.

Then, the factory exploded as I fell clear of the window, falling outside in dark, cold water. Bright lights flashed above the water, and I watched it, amazed, dumbstruck, numbed by the cold water. Without wanting to, I surfaced, gasping for breath, and I witnessed the most beautiful sight of colorful flames that varied from all the colors of the rainbow. The heat washed over my face, but I didn't mind it, fascinated by the vivid sight.

I only just turned my head, and I saw the Joker standing on the land near a place that I could swim to. Like me, he was transfixed by the beautiful flames, but I had a deeper sense that the flames weren't the _only_ thing that made him watch his fireworks.

I began swimming in his direction, figuring he would notice my splashing, but he didn't move. Blue and red flashing lights caused me to stop swimming and only float. I remained where I was as I watched several cops jump out of their squad cars, surrounding the Joker and yelling at him, ordering him to put his hands up.

I was only close enough to hear their yells, but I could see the Joker's mouth moving as he answered them. Was he resisting? Telling them to wait a few more minutes? Was he _waiting_ for _me_? It didn't matter much because the cops grabbed him, handcuffed his hands behind his back, and shoved him into a squad car. The others remained, but the police car with my boss drove away.

* * *

**Lordlink13: I don't know about you guys, but that was a pretty **_**intense**_** chapter. I didn't know what the heck I was doing with the beginning though, but I think it was an okay part, so I left that in there, rather than try to think up something else. It's hard enough trying to figure out how to connect various scenes that I have already written out. So before I continue to ramble, please leave a review before you go. It's really nice to know if someone likes the story or not, and also a good thing to know if I'm bringing the Joker OOC, or if the story's getting a little too weird. I like input so if you could give me some, that would be great. Until next time!**


	18. Yin and Yang

They had taken the Joker away from me, and while drifting towards shore, I realized that I didn't know how I _felt_ about that. The adrenaline rush seemed to be the only thing keeping me from thinking straight – which was…_different_. As I pulled myself onto shore, I wondered why and couldn't think of the reason.

I watched the remaining of the flames of the Ace Chemicals Factory as many fire trucks sprayed water over them, putting them out. I shivered as I pulled my legs into my chest, hugging my knees tightly. Being near the water, a chilly wind blew in from the harbor, blowing my wet hair harshly.

"Two weeks and I've become _attached_ to him…" I couldn't believe that I was saying it out loud, but it made sense. It was _so_ possible that I had just lost my mind in the adrenaline rush that I suffered from during the encounter with Bob and the explosion, but deep down, I doubted it.

"…the woman must still be in there!"

I turned my head to see that three people were standing not far from where I was sitting. One of them was a woman, maybe in her late thirties, the other two men, one in his mid-forties – maybe – and the other in his fifties; the guess is based off of the gray-and-white hair he had.

"By now, she's probably dead," the woman said.

"You know we still have to search for her, Ramirez," the older man replied. He sighed as he pushed his glasses up on his nose before shoving his hands in his pockets. "No matter _what_ the Joker does, it's awful."

"It doesn't matter how many times we catch him, Commissioner," the other man said, "He'll _always_ have the defense of insanity that puts him in Arkham, where he seems to be able to get out of like it's a revolving door."

"For _most_ of their higher level patients, that's how the door seems to work," the Commissioner sighed. I zoned out at that point, deciding that their conversation had nothing to do with me. Of course, my curiosity got the better of me, and I tuned in only a minute later.

The Commissioner clapped the other man's shoulder. "Mind if I let you keep an eye out here, Stephens?"

Stephens nodded. "I'll do that. You and Ramirez can deal with the clown."

The Commissioner and Ramirez headed back to their cars while Stephens turned and watched the water spraying over the flames.

I turned my attention back to the wind coming off the harbor, and I realized that I felt angry. It burned in my chest, and my head throbbed painfully with the tension.

I stood up and moved away from where Stephens was, deciding that I'd better move before he happened to catch sight of me.

So, the Joker had been caught. I was conflicted with my emotions on that simple fact. It felt good to know that I was free from him, no longer his _sidekick_, but I also sensed that I had a duty to perform. The pressure of being the Joker's henchwoman…if he was caught by the police, it was my job to get him out. And like before, I realized that I didn't _like_ the fact that the cops had taken him away from me.

Now if _I_ had set him up, _that_ would be different, but I didn't so I felt compelled to rescue the Joker from the MCU.

Fat chance at _this_ point.

I shadowed to a random street that I merely thought of in a second, and I walked, digging my hands into my pockets and paying little attention to where I was going. I could feel the adrenaline rush fade from my system, leaving me with only my will to keep me going. I felt _exhausted_ after all that had happened.

All it started with was my thinking of the past and causing my regrets to surface. If _only_ I _hadn't_ started talking to the Joker about my regrets…

There _really_ is something about dark alleys that cause people trouble. It's dark for one thing, blinding the innocent walker to what awaited him or her in the darkness. The ambushers had the advantage of the cover of the dark, _and_, if it was nighttime, no one was around to save the person ambushed.

Twelve years living as a criminal, seven of those years being for Mobsters I presented my abilities to willingly, I had my share of alley fights. My fighting instincts were in tune, even when I was exhausted after almost getting blown to pieces by the Joker.

The guy attacked me from behind, but I spun, raising my arm to block what he was going to hit my head with. He hit me with a bat, and the blow hurt, not enough force to break my arm but enough to give me a large bruise for later. My attacker seemed surprised by my block, and I caught him off guard as I slugged him in the jaw.

He fell back, and I felt the chilling sensation of my moving into my shadow state. The man lunged forward, swinging his bat, but I shadowed behind him, shoving him forward so that he tripped over his own feet, collapsing to the ground. Even as I approached, he scrambled to his feet, snatching up his weapon.

"Dude," I said, "What's this about?"

The guy hesitated, obviously shocked that I was talking to him while in the middle of an ambush. Then, he growled and ran towards me, swinging. I fell backwards to avoid the swing, catching myself on my hands, and I kicked my legs up, catching him in the chest with my feet.

He grunted in pain and stepped back as I jumped back to my feet, lunging forward and digging my elbow into his chest. With a _whoosh_, the wind was knocked out of him, and he simply collapsed on his back. I bent down and took up his bat, swinging it hard at the brick wall and breaking it.

Then, I walked around him, still keeping my distance. I halted at his head and looked down at him. Upon seeing me, he growled at me as he tried to push himself up. I shadowed to his side and placed a foot on his chest to hold him.

"All right, pal," I said, leaning over him. "Let's get our differences worked out."

He punched my leg, and I winced, stepping off him. The guy came to his feet and swung at me. I caught his fist and lifted it over my head as I turned into him, yanking on his arm and throwing him over my shoulder. He hit the ground with a pained whimper, but rolled over and scrambled to his feet again.

"_C'mon_, man," I said, beginning to get irritated. He charged me again, but I crouched and swung my leg from underneath me, tripping him and causing him to tumble head-over-heels over me. I got back up and glared at him as he climbed to his feet once again.

He came at me again and swung quickly. Despite my irritation, I simply dodged his blows, waiting him out. He growled with frustration and kept coming on, trying to kick me down. I finally took a stand and blocked his hits, knocking them aside, waiting for him to tire.

As I protected myself, I analyzed his movements, noting that they seemed familiar, not the punches or kicks, but the irritation he held behind them. He reminded me of someone, but I couldn't quite put my finger on _whom_. After about twenty-five seconds, I realized that I knew the guy, and it _definitely_ seemed like he was holding something _against_ me.

Finally, as he punched, I grabbed his fist with one hand, and swatted aside his following blow. I lifted my leg, pulling it in and then thrusting it forward, my foot catching him directly in the stomach. Originally, that well-placed kick would have just knocked him down to the ground, a few feet away from him, but being in my shadow state, I was much stronger and ended up kicking him so hard that he flew in the air, smashing into the alley wall, possibly breaking his back.

After hitting the wall, the guy dropped to the ground and fell flat on his face, lying still.

Cautiously, I stalked over to him and heard his ragged breathing. I hadn't _killed_ him, but might have knocked him unconscious.

Unbelievably, as I approached, the man jumped right to his feet, but then, staggered, whimpering in pain and stumbling into the wall, leaning against it and using it as support.

The black skit mask that he wore convinced me of who he was.

"Hunter," I said, darkly, "What _is_ this?"

"Where's the boss?" he demanded, his voice slightly higher than usual, because of the pain. "What have you…_done_ with him?"

"_I_ haven't done _anything_," I snapped, angrily. "He's the one who decided to blow some factory to _bits_!"

Hunter lunged forward and grabbed the front of my jacket. With sudden strength, he threw me against the wall and growled. "_Where. Is. He?_" he demanded.

"Gone," I replied, "Caught by the cops."

Through the eye slits of the mask, I could see horror flashing across Hunter's eyes, and I blinked, sensing that I had seen those eyes before somewhere, when he _wasn't_ Hunter.

"How…how _could_ you?" Hunter screamed at me, slamming me against the wall again. "How could you let them _take_ him? You…you _stupid_…" He was unable to come up with a word to call me so he just hit me against the wall again.

But I wasn't having it. There have been a few people that I allowed them to do this to me, the Joker being one of them because he scared me when he was angry, but Hunter wasn't going to be on _that_ list.

I lifted my knee, getting him in the groin. Hunter gasped, his eyes widening in pain, and his grip on me relaxed. I grabbed his head and smacked mine against his, headbutting him hard. He lost his grip, and I shoved him away from me. I tried running and tripped over his falling form, but I caught myself on the brick wall.

I broke into a run, racing for the other end of the alley. I burst out of the alley, and ran for the other side of the street, narrowly avoiding death by reaching the curb as a car drove around the corner at a high speed. The car screeched to a halt, and I slowed to a stop, turning around to see that a guy had stepped half out of the car.

"Hey, Shadow!" I recognized Dean's voice, and I headed back towards the car.

"Get in the car!" I yelled at him, jumping for the passenger's side. Dean looked at me strangely, but then, a bullet grazed the hood of his car, making him flinch before stepping back into his side. I opened the side door, catching sight of Hunter in the mouth of the alley, holding out his gun and aiming for me. He fired, and I ducked into the car, sliding into the seat and slamming the door shut.

Dean stepped on the gas, and we accelerated down the road. I glanced back to see Hunter walking into the middle of the room, firing after us. A bullet smashed the back window, sending pieces of glass at me and Dean. I ducked down as another bullet was shot, but then Dean took a sharp right and we were driving down another road, away from Hunter.

"Who _was_ that?" Dean asked, his pitch high from the fright.

I looked across at him and said, "One of the Joker's guys."

"If there's _anyone_ who didn't like you, it was Bob," Dean said, "And I haven't seen him since last night. I'm gonna have a _chat_ with him-."

"He's dead," I told him.

Dean threw a startled look at me. "You're _kidding_!"

"No, I'm not. He went up in the explosion that the Joker had planned." I settled into my seat, feeling the adrenaline rushing through my system for the second time. If this rush stopped, I doubted I'd be able to keep myself from passing out, which kept me from reverting to my original state, and remaining in my shadow state.

"Who was it?" Dean asked me, his voice a bit steadier from having some time to calm down.

"Hunter," I said.

"There's no 'Hunter' among the Joker's guys."

"That's an alias. It's what he calls himself when he comes to talk to me with that ski mask on." I glanced back and then at Dean. "Sorry about your window."

"It's fine, this isn't exactly _my_ car." He glanced at me, concerned. "One of the Joker's guys has something _against_ you?"

"I guess so." I didn't really want to talk about it, but it didn't seem like Dean would let go of the meat. "I don't know _who_ he is, but he seems to have some kind of obsession with the Joker, calls him 'the boss', and the way he says 'boss', makes me feel like he means it with a capital B."

"Of those who are still alive, besides me," Dean began, "Dave and Peter have been with the Joker the longest. Dave obeys the Joker and does whatever he says, but can be slow about it. Peter's the one who seems to be very…_protective_ of the Joker. No, that's not the word for it. More like he thinks he's the Joker's right-hand man, likes the Joker values him because he's be alive much longer."

"Would you use the word 'obsessive' for Peter's relationship with the Joker?" I asked.

Dean thought about it, his face scrunching in concentration. "Not _really_. He's really good at hiding his emotions. I believe the guy's a schizo, which explains why the Joker took him in. Boss is always saying that the _insane_ work better than the _sane_." Dean grinned to himself. "Of course, you and I are an expectation, according to the Joker."

"Cory, Shaun, and Dave don't seem to have problems," I said.

"Shaun has ADD. Cory's just quiet – which seems like a problem to the Joker, and Dave's just _stupid_."

I shook my head, cracking a smile.

"So how did Bob come to end up dead?"

"The Joker set me up, locking me in a building, rigged to blow, with Bob, and we had a shootout."

Dean looked down at me. "Why are you wet then?"

"I jumped out a window and landed in the harbor, barely managing to survive the explosion." I growled and slumped into the seat. "Makes me _glad_ that the Joker's with the police."

"He got _caught_?" Dean exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Sure," I said, offhandedly. "And he can _stay_ there, and go back to that asylum place that he's always sent to."

"But he _needs_ to be at the meeting," Dean protested.

I looked at him. "Do you _think_ I _care_ about whether or not he's at this 'meeting' that he needs to be? What _is_ it? A criminal meeting or something? A group therapy session?"

"Well, that's what _he_ likes to call it." Dean looked at me surprised. "Boss never told you?"

"I've only _been_ with him for two weeks," I growled. "He hasn't told me _anything_ besides the fact that he was _teaching_ me to be his right-hand." I shut my mouth, realizing that I might have said something that could have turned Dean against me.

Dean shrugged. "I guess it's better for you to be his partner-in-crime rather then end up _dead_," he said casually.

"You weren't, um, trying to be his right-hand, were you?"

"He already _has_ a right hand. Why would he need me when he has one of his own?" I blinked, before realizing that Dean was grinning, showing that he was joking.

"C'mon, Dean," I said.

"I was kidding, Shadow. No, no one seems to be able to match his expectations…until you showed up, and you're not even his expectations for a right-hand. It just makes me curious _why_ he would take the time to _train_ you before taking you on as his assistant."

"It didn't sound like he was making me his assistant. It sounded like he was making me his equal, as a partner."

Dean shrugged. "I don't know what goes on between you two, and I'd rather not know."

Heat rose in my face. "We don't _do_ anything," I said.

Dean chuckled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to _phrase_ it like that."

Dean pulled up into the back of the apartment building that the Joker had claimed as his hideout, and I stepped out of the car, curious to see a black BMW sitting in one of the parking spots.

Next thing I knew, something hit me in the head, and I cried out in pain, covering the spot with my hand, rubbing it. "What was that?" I said.

"Shadow!" Raven appeared, sitting on the hood of the BMW, and she looked slightly frustrated. "Where's Mister J?" she demanded.

"Greetings, Raven," I said, grudgingly. "Mister J's been caught by the police."

"He did _what_?" Raven jumped off the BMW and ran at me, grabbing fistfuls of my purple jacket and shaking me violently. "The Joker went and did _what_? Let himself get caught! He owes me a _favor_! His week is up tomorrow night, and I _need_ him to _help_ me! Why's he in the MCU?"

Dean came over, placing a hand on Raven's shoulder. "Whoa, Raven, gal, gentle on Shadow. She's had a rough night."

I whimpered as she finally stopped shaking me, her eyes blazing. "He set me up with one of his guys in a factory, rigged to blow," I explained, shakily.

"What's that got to do with him getting caught?" Raven demanded, harshly.

"I think he was waiting for me to run out of the place as it exploded, and he ignored the cops as they arrested him, still watching the explosion."

Raven growled as she shoved me away from her. I collided with the car and nearly collapsed, but Dean caught me and steadied me until I could stand on my own. Raven walked away from us, but spun around and glared at me. "Why are you here?" she demanded. "Aren't you supposed to be getting him out of the MCU?"

"You think I _want_ him out of that place when he tried to _kill_ me?" I demanded, with a burst of anger. "He _deserves_ to be there right now."

"He owes me a _favor_, Shadow!" she yelled at me.

"It's not _my_ favor," I yelled back. "That's a deal between you and him! Go break him out of the police station yourself! _I'm_ not gonna help you! I'm going to recuperate from the near-death experience I just had! I already have someone trying to kill me, _besides_ the Joker!"

Raven stepped toward me, but I lifted my gun – the weapon I had completely forgotten about and hadn't known that I had taken it from my belt – stopping her with a surprised look on her face.

I gave her a cold stare. "I've already killed someone tonight. I'm not in the _mood_ to kill another, but I _will_ if you _push_ me, Raven."

The fear in her eyes was evident. The raising of her hands only proved that she was afraid of the possibility of me pulling the trigger on her.

"Whoa, calm down, Shadow," Dean said, but I aimed the gun at him too, moving backward from them both. "All right, I won't push ya," he said, looking wary.

I glared at him and Raven and then lowered the gun before turning and heading toward the apartment door.

"You're just _like_ the Joker!" Raven yelled as I climbed the steps.

I spun on the top step. "Maybe I _am_!" I said, loudly. "That just makes us a _perfect match_ now, _doesn't_ it?" Then, I opened the door and slammed it shut behind me.

Inside, I pressed my back against the door and hit my head against it. Closing my eyes, I whispered, "I _hate_ having to admit that the Joker's right. We really _are_ alike." I opened my eyes and said, "At least we're different in _some_ ways."

I pushed off the door and headed upstairs, my steps heavy on the metal stairs. I entered the Joker's bedroom and closed the door, purposely resisting the urge to look at the bed. I knew I'd go for it if I did so I went into the bathroom and closed that door too, so I wasn't tempted to look.

I tore off my jacket, leather vest, and shirt, leaving myself only in my bra to check over my injuries. My shoulder was caked with dried blood from where one of Bob's bullets had clipped me, not to mention the large bruise forming on my forearm where Hunter's bat had hit me. I did the best I could, cleaning my shoulder and bandaging it. The bruise I couldn't do much except ice it, and it was rather strange – but fortunate – that the Joker actually had a mini fridge underneath the bathroom sink, filled with ice packs. I took one and strapped it to my arm.

After that, I pulled off my shoes and leather pants and unwrapped my leg. It was a nasty, ugly-looking wound, and again, the best I could do was clean it with Peroxide – boy, did that _hurt_ – and wrap it with a clean, and _real_, bandage. That done, I pulled my pants back on, along with my Skechers.

Finally, I cupped water from the faucet in my hands and splashed in my face, trying to wake myself up for what I still had to do. I gripped the edges of the sink and looked into my reflection, startling myself with the purple eyes looking back at me. It scared me, until I realized that I was still in my shadow state, thus explaining why my eyes had altered colors.

Last I had to do was pull on my shirt, which I did carefully over my ice pack, and then pulled on the leather vest. I opened the bathroom door and tossed my purple jacket onto the bed, not wanting to wear it. I went over and switched the gun I had taken from the factory, checking the ammo of my own semi-automatic before heading back out.

I passed Dean and Raven on the stairs down.

"Where are _you_ going?" Dean asked.

I stopped a few steps down and half-turned, my hand on the railing. "I've something I need to do," I said.

"Going to get the Joker out?" Raven snorted.

"As if that's what I was going to do…" I murmured, turning and starting down the stairs again.

"Ya know, he's gotten himself out of that place before," she called after me, stopping me in my tracks. "He doesn't need your help."

"How?" I asked, half-turning again.

She grinned at my shocked expression. "Oh, are you _sure_ you weren't going to break him out?" she asked, teasing me. I glared at her. "No, you'll have to ask him sometime about his first breakout of the MCU. He _loves_ to tell stories."

"_Sure_ he does," I murmured under my breath as I turned and headed down the stairs again. I heard Dean call my name as I left the building, but I closed the door behind me, blocking him out. Rather than let him catch me before I walked off the premises, I shadowed on the doorstep, appearing before the MCU – silently thanking the Joker for having me walk to this place a few days ago.

I went in the back, looking into one of the windows and shadowing into the room beyond since I didn't have an ID card to scan. I moved into the storage of criminal items where I looked up the Joker, finding and opening the locker that held his jacket and knives. To make it easier to carry, I pulled on the Joker's jacket and slipped all of his knives into his pockets before heading off.

After checking the holding cells – and discovering that the Joker wasn't there – I wandered, keeping to the shadows and melding into them, being as quiet as I could manage while my heart pounded with the anxiety of being in enemy territory.

I passed what must have been the breakroom because a couple detectives were chatting over a late dinner meal – or early breakfast. I caught the name of one of the criminal masterminds and wandered back, eavesdropping like the naughty person I was.

"…gathering a bunch of diamonds to power up his suit-thing," one detective said.

"How many cops were frozen because of Mr. Freeze?" the second asked.

"Seven."

"I heard nine," a third protested.

"No, it was seven," the first argued. "Hawkins told me himself."

Out in the hallway, I had stiffened, my body hardening with a thin flow of anger, my hands clenching into fists. I did _not_ just hear that name…

"Hawkins was there?"

"Yeah, he _is_ a lieutenant after all, and since he came here a year ago, he's just about outsmarted every high-ranking officer and detective, excluding Ramirez, Murphy, and Stephens."

"What about Gordon?"

"The Commissioner is the top no matter what. Besides, with his success at catching Mr. Freeze when the iceman gave them quite a fight, Hawkins will _definitely_ be promoted one way or the other. Who knows? Maybe he'll be part of the Commissioner's top detectives."

I walked away, feeling rage flooding through me. Digging my hands into my pockets didn't help much but when I transferred them to the Joker's jacket, I found that holding one of his knives in each hand helped focus and control the unpredictable anger that was building rapidly inside me.

It had been years since I had crossed paths with Hawkins, four to be exact, and now, I doubted that I'd be able to control myself if I saw him face-to-face. I even doubted if I would be able to handle it if I caught sight of him here in the MCU. The anger was growing so I shook my head and told myself to concentrate. I was here for the Joker, not Hawkins, but eventually, I'll come here for the man for whom I will _never_ forgive and forget.

I stumbled upon the Joker's location by chance, more like by overhearing a few more detectives talking about how he wasn't talking much. I backed up and realized that I had stumbled upon the room outside the interrogation room. Here, officers and detectives could watch the criminal from behind one-way mirror glass, and the criminal wouldn't be able to see them.

I looked through the glass from the door, being careful that no stray light was hitting me and giving away my shadow position.

The Joker sat at a metal table in the interrogation room, sitting with a straight back, his handcuffed hands resting under the tabletop. Across from him was Commissioner Gordon, who was calmly questioning him.

Remaining in the doorway, I could hear their conversation through the microphone, and from what I was hearing, it sounded like I had _just_ come at the beginning of a new subject.

"_You're aware of the new killer on the streets, correct?"_ Gordon asked.

"_I'm ah-_ware_,"_ the Joker said coolly. _"The one who _killed_ some guy and, ah, _threw_ him in the river." _ He grinned. _"The guy must've been _happy_ to die. He had such a, ah, a big _grin_ on his face."_

"_As well as a Yin and Yang symbol on his forehead,"_ Gordon said. _"Do you know anything about this killer?"_

The Joker scoffed. _"Of _course_ I do, Com_-mish-_ioner. I'm a _criminal_. All criminals know ah-bout each other."_

"_Do you have an alliance with the Yin and Yang killer?"_

"_Is _that_ the name you're giving her?"_ The Joker burst out laughing, throwing his head back and tilting backwards slightly in his chair. He struggled to contain it, but apparently it was simply _funny_ for him to resist.

The Commissioner was patient, even though I could see his nose flaring with irritation. When the Joker's laughter had subsided to a softer volume, he asked, _"The killer's a woman."_

"_Did…did _I_ say that-ah?"_ the Joker asked, between giggles. _"Slip of the tongue."_ He smiled, and I blinked, realizing that he had _purposely_ let that information go. It didn't seem like he would be protecting my identity for long if he was willingly giving them information – or purposely letting it loose.

The Commissioner waited for the Joker to continue, but when the Joker simply turned his head to the side, giving him a look, Gordon continued. _"I'll ask again. Are you in league with the woman?"_

"_Me? In league with her?"_ Again, the Joker started laughing, but this time, he cut it short on his own, leaning forward over the table, and looking Gordon in the eyes. _"_She's_ in league with _me_, Com-_mish_-ioner."_

"_Did you order her to kill Tyler Samson?"_

"_No-no-no-no-_no_. It was, ah, _her_ decision."_ The Joker shifted back in his seat and said, _"I could intro_-duce_ you, if you'd like."_

Gordon's eyes narrowed with suspicion, and in return, the Joker's face fell with what looked like innocence.

"_Gee, Com_-mish_-ioner. It's like you don't-ah _trust_ me."_

"_I wouldn't trust you as long as you were _meant_ to be in Arkham,"_ Gordon said, coldly.

The Joker winced. _"Ouch…and I thought we were-."_

"_We weren't anything, so don't even _try_ that, Joker,"_ Gordon growled as he stood up. _"You can think in your cell about whether or not you want to talk more about the new killer."_

As if that was a cue, two of the detectives – I recognized Stephens from the explosion – moved out of the room. I just barely moved out of the way before the younger looking one almost bumped into me. I dogged them towards the door to the interrogation room and stopped quickly as Stephens turned to the younger detective.

"You remember the _last_ time he broke out the MCU, Murphy," Stephens said. "Be _careful_."

The younger detective, Murphy nodded, and Stephens opened the door.

Upon seeing the interior, I shadowed inside, finding a shadowy corner right away, one that had a camera pointed at the Joker. Stephens and Murphy entered, and Gordon stepped out of their way as they headed toward the Joker.

The Joker had gone still, his eyes scanning the room, almost like he had sensed my presence. He didn't stand as Murphy ordered him to so the older detective went over, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The Joker burst into action, standing up and twisting, catching Stephens under the chin with a _crack_. A swift kick between the legs brought the older detective down. Murphy came up behind the Joker with a gun in his hand, but the Joker turned suddenly, knocking Murphy's gun out of his hand, letting it fall to the ground.

Seeing Stephens slowly climbing to his feet, I shadowed over and kicked him hard in the chest, knocking the air out of him, placing my foot on his back to hold him down. I turned to see the Joker on Murphy, his wrists flexed, his hands behind the detective's head, palms pushing his skull forward. It took me a split second to realize that he was choking Murphy on the short chain of his handcuffs. Gordon stood in the doorway with Ramirez, his gun trained on the Joker.

* * *

**Lordlink13: Yet another intense chapter! I want you guys to know that I appreciate all the reviews and welcome all the new readers who have read all my chapters thus far in a single **_**night**_**. Either my chapters are too short or you guys are **_**really**_** fast readers with nothing **_**better**_** to do. It's all good though; I could take the reason that the story's so good that you read faster because it's so fast moving. *shrug* I don't know. Well, I'm signing off for now, but will return with another chapter next week. (Anyone notice that I tend to update Sunday afternoons?) And don't forget to review, people!**


	19. Fear of Love

The interrogation room went silent. Gordon and Ramirez stood by the door, their guns aimed at the Joker. The Joker waited them out, calmly choking Murphy with the chain of his handcuffs, and I remained by Stephens, a foot on his back, shoving him down to the ground when he tried to get back to his feet. It seemed like we were frozen in time, the only sound any of us could hear was one another's breathing, in particular the Joker's, who's breathing had accelerated with the excitement of the last few seconds that it took to place us all in the current situation.

"Ya know, Com-_mish_-ioner," the Joker began, licking his lips. "I was being _ser_-ious about-ah introducing you to the Yin and Yang killer, the one _I_ call 'Shadow'."

"And I'm being serious about the fact that you've _not_ escaping from here again," Gordon growled. "You don't have any men in the holding cells that would have any explosives to get you out."

"_Ah_, but that doesn't _mean_ I've out-ah of _options_, Com-_mish_-ioner." The Joker scoffed. "Wanna meet-ah my _apprentice_?" Rameriz's eyes widened, but Gordon's narrowed with this news that the Joker had an apprentice, though I had never considered myself as his apprentice. Sure, he was teaching me, but that didn't mean that he was _making_ me do the _exact_ same things _he_ did.

The Joker shifted his weight, eagerly. "I thought ah-bout how to introduce her to the city, and I suppose this is the _best_-ah I can come up with at the moment. Come on _out_-ah."

It took me a moment to realize he was referring to me, and even then, I hesitated, wondering if I should do it or not. My hesitation led the Joker to frown slightly and Gordon to jerk his gun with a silent warning to my boss.

"She can't be in this room right now," Gordon said. "Joker, release Murphy!"

"Oh _no_, Com-_mish_-ioner. Not-ah until you _meet_ her." The Joker whistled loudly. "C'mon out, Shadow, don't-ah be _shy_. I don't-ah have all _day_!"

I appeared reluctantly, causing Gordon and Murphy to flinch with surprise, even though Murphy only caused himself to choke more in the Joker's hold. Gordon's eyes searched me, and I held up my hands, showing that I was unarmed.

The Joker giggled softly. "Found my coat-ah, _didn't_ ya?"

I looked at him. "Wasn't too hard. Just had to find the lockers and pick the lock." I shrugged. "Nothing _too_ complex. The things you learn when you've been a criminal for half your life."

The Joker sniffed, like he was disgusted. "You won _that_ one, Shadow," he growled. He turned his attention to Gordon and grinned. "I ah-_pol_-ogize, Com-_mish_-ioner, but I've got-ah to _go_. I owe someone a _favor_, and I _promised_ I'd help out-ah." He glanced at me and winked. "I'm a man of my _wor_-dah."

The Joker lifted his handcuffed hands over Murphy's head, and he shoved him forward into Gordon. As he walked toward me, I caught the sight of his hands slipping easily out of the cuffs, and then the Joker was beside me, grabbing hold of my forearm. "Hope you grabbed the, ah, the _knives_ too," he whispered into my ear, his voice husky.

"Sure did, Boss," I said in obviously forced cheery voice, and then shadowed back to the apartment. I brought the Joker straight to our shared bedroom, and after transferring there, I roughly pulled my arm free of his grip. I turned to him, eyes narrowed. "Raven was pretty ticked _off_ with you when she found out that you allowed yourself to be caught."

The Joker snorted. "Of _course_ she would be. It's Raven!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms out as if that explained everything.

I glared at him and then turned, heading for the door.

Predictably, the Joker caught hold of my upper arm before I reached the door, and he pulled me toward him. I dug my feet into the ground, resisting until he settled for me coming to a complete stop rather than returning to him.

"Are you mad at me?" he demanded.

I scoffed coldly, half-turning to throw him an icy glare. "As a matter of _fact_, I _am_! Why _wouldn't_ I be? You nearly _killed_ me in that explosion! I _barely_ survived by jumping out a freakin' _window_! For the past two weeks, you've taken the time to instruct me, and you were _this close_ to _losing_ all that hard work you put into me." I used my fingers to illustrate just _how_ close he was to killing me. "I swear, if you pull off another one like that, _if_ I survive, I will _personally_ kill you!"

Throughout my angry ranting, the Joker's expression had changed swiftly from one emotion to another, finally ending in amusement.

"_You_…will kill _me_?" This seemed to amuse him enough to cause him to burst into a fit of laughter.

Enraged, I stepped toward him and punched him as hard as I could, which was pretty hard, my strength being fueled by my surging fury. The hit was hard enough to silence the Joker, his grip on my arm slacking, and he fell to the ground, almost seeming to bounce on it a few times before settling on his back.

I had taken him by surprise, and that shock was evident on his white-painted face. His hand raised to his jaw, holding it as he moved it around, making sure it wasn't broken before he finally looked up and met my gaze.

Shaking with anger, I leaned over slightly, my eyes cold against his as I pointed cruelly at him, threatening to jab him in the face with my finger. "_You_ might think that killing people is fun, but I _don't_. I've seen my family murdered before my eyes; I've _shot_ my real father, and I was on the verge of killing someone else that I knew from a few years ago. I am _not_ to be tested when I'm like this. If you knew any better – or even _cared_ the _slightest_ bit about your survival – you'd stay _clear_ of me for the next few hours."

Having said what I wanted to say, I straightened and then turned, heading for the door again. I reached it and was only slightly surprised when I realized – halfway down the hall – that the Joker hadn't tried to stop me from leaving.

I found the room where the Joker's men usually hung out, and I closed the door behind me, propping one of the chairs under the doorknob so that no one could disturb me. The smell of beer and smoke – probably from Dave who was stupid enough to smoke still, despite the Joker's punishment – hung in the air so I moved over to a window. It took me several heaves before I managed to open it all the way. I even opened the second one, deciding that I'd rather have both open to allow the night air to circulate.

Having done that, I went and collapsed on one of the couches. My body was still wired from the adrenaline rush and my burning anger, but the cooler air from outside seemed to be chilling that rage. I covered my eyes with my arm, heaving a heavy sigh. It would take a few minutes for the fury to vanish, and that would leave me exhausted. Me and my _temper_…it was much worse now than it _had_ been, and I blamed that on the Joker, who's own temper was quick and sharp.

A few minutes passed with the cool air from outside blowing over me, and I felt the exhaustion creeping up on me. I kicked off my Skechers and turned on my side, yelping with surprise at the lumps that poked me in the sides. I remembered I was still wearing the Joker's jacket with his knives resting in the pockets, and with a swift burst of hatred, I tore it off and chucked it across the room.

Settling into the couch, beating a dead pillow into the best shape it could be, I closed my eyes and dowsed off, waking at intervals to adjust my uncomfortable position. Once I remember waking up because I was cold, but I was simply too tired to get up and retrieve the Joker's jacket.

Past midnight, I think, I was half-awake when someone started talking to me. I couldn't comprehend all that he said, but I remember bits and pieces. It sounded like he was telling me about how he had waited, thought I hadn't survived the bomb when I didn't show up. Wished that he could tell me something important, but couldn't bring himself to say it. It didn't sound like my boss, but the voice sounded familiar, almost like Dean's. I couldn't think of it as when I felt some weight covering me and the warmth I felt, I drifted off again.

The sunlight pouring through the open windows awoke me because I was in the _wrong_ position, facing the windows so that the slightest stream of light hit me _directly_ in the eyes. I moaned as I turned my head and lifted my cover over my face, sighing and focusing on calming my breathing to drift off again.

But then I realized that I hadn't had anything covering me when I first fell asleep. I opened my eyes to the darkness under the cover, and I brought my hand up, touching the cover.

From the first touch, I recognized the feel of leather, and I pushed it off my face, instantly recognizing the purple shade of the Joker's jacket. Immediately, I threw it off me and onto the floor beside the couch, and I sat up, rubbing my face with my hands. It was only mid-afternoon, and since I had been sleeping during the day for over two weeks, it was _torture_ to be awake in the sunlight.

I threw myself back down on my back, covering my face with my hands, quietly cursing the sun and the Joker's men for positioning the couch wrong.

The sound of slapping cards made me fall silent.

I could recognize the sound of playing cards _anywhere_, since I had the addiction of simply _holding_ them. I sat up again, this time slowly as I looked around the room. I could only see one side of the room, the side with the other couch and with the TV, so the cards were coming from the other side.

Quietly, I peeked over the back of the couch, spotting the card player sitting at the poker table, his back facing me. I recognized the Joker by his green vest and light blue hexagonal shirt, not to mention the light green hair. He was shuffling a pack of cards, quickly dealing them out on the table surface, preparing for a game, and by his movements from behind, my guess was that he was playing solitaire.

I rolled my eyes and turned around, setting my feet on the floor. Rubbing my face again, I checked the door, seeing that the chair was still propped up under the doorknob, and I glanced over at the open windows, figuring that _that's_ how the Joker had gotten into the room. I stood up and then looked down at his jacket, bending down and picking it up before straightening.

The Joker's attention was all on his solitaire game, his eyes darting over the cards in his hand and on the table, his mind calculating all of his moves. I watched him over his shoulder as he took a few seconds to plan out his moves before quickly executing whatever plan it was, slapping down several cards into place and moving a couple before halting for another planning moment.

Only once, the Joker took longer than a few moments to figure out the situation, and he simply stared at the cards. He remained that way for a whole minute, which surprised me. I connected what he was supposed to do, and without any concern, I reached over his shoulder and moved a number of cards around, taking a few from his hand and winning the game for him.

He remained still as I walked around him, pulling out the other chair. The Joker looked up at me as I sat down across from him, running a hand through my hair as a comb before setting it down on the table surface.

I met his steady gaze and asked, "How long have you been waiting?"

"Long enough," he replied, emotionless. I waited for him to continue, but the Joker was tightlipped.

I heaved a sigh and said, "You're not angry with me about last night?"

"It-ah was _early_ this _morning_," he corrected.

"Fine, this morning. You're not mad?"

"Why _would_ I be?"

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "Because you don't like rebels," I said. "Besides, I _hit_ you. Surely you want to return the favor."

"I wouldn't-ah _say_ it was a _favor_. I al-_ready_ owe Raven. I don't need to, ah, to _owe_ you too." The Joker leaned back, sliding his tongue over his lips slowly. "But-ah, did you _cool off_?"

I cracked a small smile. "More than one way," I said, and the Joker grinned. The way he smiled, I sensed that something was different, and I frowned, trying to figure it out. He saw my frown, and his smile faded quickly.

"Still _mad_ at me?" he asked, cautiously.

"What makes you think that?"

The Joker looked away, brushing his dyed hair back with a gloved hand. "No particular reason," he said, "Just-ah _wondering_." He chanced a glance at me, and I had replaced my frown of concentration with a smile. The Joker took a moment, as if making sure that it was sincere before he grinned back at me.

He slapped his hands on the table surface and pushed himself to his feet, nearly knocking his chair backward with the sudden force. "All _righty_ then," he said, cheerfully. "I can go to, ah, to _bed_ now without-ah worrying about possibly being _killed_."

I blinked, my smile disappearing with my surprise. "You thought I was actually going to _kill_ you?" I said, shocked.

The Joker shrugged carelessly. "I've told you _before_, Shadow. You're like me. You're unpre-_dic_-table sometimes."

I blinked again, unsure of how to respond to that.

The Joker, sensing my confusion, chuckled softly as he looked about the room quickly. "Well, well, _Sha_-dow," he began. "Yah know Gotham. Yah know the other _criminals_. Yah know me, Batman, and the _cops_." He giggled. "You even have a, ah, a _costume_. _And_, you've committed the felony of breaking me out-ah of the MCU. Now I'm _cur_-ious." He eyed me. "How's that-ah make you _feel_?"

It was a simple question, but for some reason, I couldn't think of a proper way of answering it. To give myself time to concentrate, I tried to look away, but he leaned over the table, grabbing hold of my chin firmly, keeping eye-contact.

"_C'mon_, Shadow," he pressed. "I want-ah to _know_."

There was only one word I could describe how I was feeling. "Speechless…"

He arched a black eyebrow. "Maybe I should, ah, _rephrase_ the question. After being in Gotham for, ah, for two weeks, you've gotten to _know_ the city, not-ah like you've done _much_ compared to others, but that's not something we_ can't_-ah _fix_." His tongue flickered out over his scarred lips before he continued. "What do you _say_ about-ah becoming my _official_ partner-in-crime, Shadow?"

"Official, as in _il_-legal, right?"

The Joker gave me a confused expression, but I only grinned, waiting for him to get it. It took him a moment, but he did get it, enough to smile back and laugh happily. "My _il_-legal partner-in-crime, then," he chuckled.

I gave a short laugh. "I'm looking _forward_ to it," I told him in a mischievous tone. "But you _really_ shouldn't trust me as much as you _have_ been."

He laughed in my face, but it wasn't a mocking laugh. "Shadow, you're as _trust_-worthy as _I_ am. That's what-ah makes us _perfect_ for one another."

* * *

The door slammed open, hitting the wall beside it and possibly leaving a hole in it. Next came the shout that was rather _close_ to being considered a scream, "_Sha_-dow!"

I couldn't resist rolling my eyes, irritated, hating how the clown _always_ had the best timing of when to interrupt me.

Two days later from the Ace Chemical Factory explosion, I was lying on the couch, my head propped up on a pillow, reading a book that looked like it had seen better days and listening to my iPod. The music was just a barrier against sound around me, such as the Joker's men yelling at the TV in the room next door, but it wasn't a good enough of a barrier against the slamming of doors as the clown himself made his appearance in a room.

"Shadow?" he called again, still almost screaming it.

I shifted my position, slipping an arm under my pillow, my eyes never leaving my page.

Over my book, I saw his head peek over the back of the couch where he crossed his arms, watching me attentively. I continued to scan the page, pretending to read since I couldn't focus while he was staring at me. It made me uneasy when I knew someone was watching me while I was reading. Subconsciously, I shifted slightly.

"Am I making you, ah, _nervous_, Shadow?"

"Stop _staring_ at me," I growled irritated, trying to block him out.

"I'm not-ah _doing_ anything," he protested, innocently. "Why do you _have_ to, ah, to lose your _tem_-per with me?"

"I _hate_ it when people talk to me while I'm _reading_." I shifted again, turning into the couch so I could still watch him without having to look at him.

The Joker didn't say anything and probably looked around the room for a bit. I managed to _barely_ submerge myself into the story again before he decided to open his big mouth again. "Of _all_ things to, ah, to _catch_ you doing on your day-off-."

"Day-off, _my_ day, _my_ choice of what to do with myself," I snapped, hardly caring that I had interrupted him. I raised my eyes to throw him a cold stare. "A day _you're_ not going to _interrupt_ and _ruin_ for me."

The Joker pouted. "When do I _ever_ inter-_rupt_ you?"

"Don't act like you're innocent. You're as innocent as I am."

"You're _innocent_?" The Joker's eyes widened. "In what-ah sense?"

"In the criminal sense. You know what. Compared to _your_ records, I _am_ innocent."

"Not-ah anymore." The Joker giggled as he climbed over the back of the couch. I managed to move my legs before he landed on them. "You do whatever _I_ do."

"Monkey see, monkey do, huh?" I said, not amused. I curled my knees into my chest and turned on my side to return to reading.

However, the Joker threw himself over me, squishing me under his sudden weight.

"Uncalled for!" I cried out as he reached for my book. I moved it out of his reach, and he grinned.

"Whatcha reading?" he asked, curiously.

"What's it _look_ like?" I demanded.

"Don't-ah get _snappy_ with me, Shadow," he growled at me. He quickly snatched my book out of my hands and moved back to his end of the couch. I sighed with irritation as I sat up, turning off my iPod and wrapping it up.

"_Berry Tucker_," the Joker read from the cover. He opened it randomly – losing my page in the process – and laughed. "You've written in it-ah!" He carelessly tossed it across the room where it landed in a corner.

I instantly jumped for it, but the Joker caught me around the waist, throwing me back on the couch effortlessly. He straddled me, trapping my legs underneath him and pressing my hands into the cushions with his.

"Why do you _care_ about-ah a _ruined_ book?" he asked, sliding his tongue over his scarred lips.

"It's a prized possession," I growled.

"Brings back memories?" He shook his head. "Why would you want-ah to look _back_?"

"I had some good memories back there."

He cocked his head. "_Only_ some?"

I narrowed my eyes, keeping my mouth shut.

The Joker released one of my wrists to stroke my cheek. "So many _mysteries_, Shadow," he said in a tender tone. "You hide it-ah all so _well_. Es-_peci _-ally your emotions. The past few days must-ah have been a _trial_ for you."

"What makes you say _that_?" I spat, glaring at him. "Only two days ago, you nearly blew me to smithereens! Do you expect me _not_ to have some kind of a grudge against you for that?"

"Do you hold me re-_spons_-ible?" the Joker asked.

"Yes."

The Joker scoffed me. "I _read_ people very _well_, Shadow, particularly you. It's even _eas_-ier because you're so much _like_ me."

"I am _not_ like you."

The Joker waved a hand dismissively. "Say whatever you _want_-ah." Then, his tone turned soft. "You know, Shadow, you hold _too_ many _se_-crets. You seem to be un-_able_ to let-ah _go_ of your past re-_grets_. That's _one_ thing you should, ah, learn…face it and it _never_ bothers you again."

The tenderness in his tone scared me, despite how it was supposed to be comforting. "What are you, some kind of poet?" I asked, my voice quiet.

The Joker grinned as he cupped my chin gently. "I could've pulled it-ah _off_ if I _wanted_ to," he giggled. "There are _lots_ of things I could pull off."

"Why did you decide to become a criminal then?" I asked, "If you had so many options."

The Joker played with his mouth as he thought that one over. "You see, Shadow, I'm a guy of simple tastes. I _enjoy_ the freedom that the life of a _criminal_ gives."

"It's hardly freedom if you're wanted and you're always hiding."

"No-no-no-no-_no_, Shadow…you haven't been in Gotham _long_ enough," the Joker said. "How long have you been, ah, _with_ me?"

"Two weeks and two days," I deadpanned.

"At least-ah _someone_ is keeping track." He giggled and then said, "See, I've been _busy_, _instructing_ you so you _haven't_-ah seen me in action."

"The failed bank robbery doesn't count?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

The Joker's expression hardened, and I must have made a face back as his hard look vanished, replaced by one of amusement. "Are you _scared_ of me?" he asked, laughing.

The conversation had turned in a way that I had tried to avoid for the many days I had been with the Joker. It seemed that no matter what you do, sometimes, the thing you don't want to happen catches up with you.

The Joker's eyes bore into mine, and I knew that if I lied, he would know without hesitation. Whether I liked it or not, I had to answer truthfully, but I could play the half-game. "Not of you," I said, quietly. I only hoped the Joker would drop it and change the subject.

"But you _are_ scared," he pressed. It was too much to ask for. I nodded.

The Joker pushed himself up, still straddling me. He cocked his head to the side, watching me closely. I laid still, staring back at him, my hear pounding with anxiety.

Then, the Joker fell back down. I cried out startled, expecting him to land on me, but he caught himself on his forearms, hovering closer to me than before.

"What-ah _are_ you afraid of?" the Joker asked slowly. I didn't answer, still hoping vainly that he would drop it. "_C'mon_, Shadow, _tell_ me," he begged. "It's only _fair_ that-ah you tell me, if I've kept you ah-live this long."

I licked my dry lips, nervously at the mention of him holding my life in his hands, at all times. I tried to look away from his eyes, but I couldn't. The honest curiosity in his tone reached me, making me feel guilty that I wasn't answering him – like he had control over, not only my life, but of my emotions.

"I _trusted_ you with the story of, ah, of my scars, Shadow," the Joker pushed, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Surely I have gained _your_ trust-ah in return."

No, he hadn't gained my trust; he had gained my respect for who he was and what he did. He was the most dangerous criminal mastermind in Gotham City, the most wanted criminal. Over my time with him, he had let his power over me slip, to test me. He knew more about me than I knew about him. It was so obvious that I had earned his trust, but did I trust him in return? All I ever trusted him with was my life, since there was no option.

Did I trust – no, _respect_ – him enough to keep my secrets what they are: secret?

"What _kind_ of trust have you put in me?" I asked. The Joker turned his head slightly, giving me a suspicious look as he chewed in the inside of his cheek. "You trust me not to take advantage of knowing the past behind your scars; that's the _only_ trust I see."

The Joker shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting about the room like he was searching for an answer. "You've made this, ah, _difficult_," he accused when he finally brought his gaze back to me.

I shrugged slightly, showing that I didn't care. "I just did what you've done to me a few days ago."

He narrowed his eyes, licking his lips. "What-ah was _that_?"

"I revealed my regrets to you, and you used that to nearly _blow_ me to _smithereens_."

The Joker burst out laughing, the tension easing with his easy laughter. "And you think you've put-ah me in a position that I _don't_ like?"

I shook my head. "I didn't _say_ that." I sighed, realizing that there was no point of continuing this, and he seemed to sense that I knew that because he turned his head slightly, looking at me expectantly.

"You know what happened to me," I said, looking away from him, staring at his shoulder rather than his eyes. "I have a fear of hanging over water-."

"That's not-ah the fear I asked ah-bout," he told me. "Though I under-_stand_ that kind of fear. What-ah are you most ah-_fraid_ of, Shadow?"

My throat constricted as I thought of how to phrase it. Seeing my struggle, sympathy softened the hardness in the Joker's brown eyes, and he raised a hand, sliding a finger along my jaw. I closed my eyes, allowing him to trace my jaw up to my ear and back down. "I'm afraid of your emotional state."

The Joker's finger halted just below my lips. "My emotional state?" he repeated, sounding confused.

I felt my muscles tighten, and I said, "How many women have you kidnapped before? How many of them are still alive? How many of them did you expression _emotions_ for?"

The Joker growled and grabbed my head with both hands, jerking me up to a sitting position. My eyes flew open, to meet the fiery rage in his brown orbs. "What makes you think I kidnapped other _women_, only to fall in _love_ with them?" he demanded, his voice loud, cruel. "I _know_ what love does to someone! You _know_ I know! What do you think drove me to kill Jeannie when she _betrayed_ me? Insanity goes a _long_ way with me, Shadow. That's something you _won't_ understand."

He pushed me down into the couch, the pillow luckily cushioning my head as it hit the arm of the couch. His hands fell to either side of my head, gripping the edges of my pillow in a death grip. His green-tinted locks slid in front of his face as he merely glared at me, his eyes burning with fury. He trembled with barely contained anger, his breathing accelerating dangerously.

This reaction would have terrified me, if only he had looked at me. In this enraged state, the Joker seemed to _purposely_ avoid looking at me, like he didn't want to scare me as much as he was by simply reacting this way. For a man who loved to laugh, he could be _very_ treacherous and intimidating when he was mad.

It only lasted half a minute. The Joker closed his eyes tightly, sitting up and pinching the bridge of his nose with a hand. He breathed sharply through his nose, his mouth closed, held in a firm line, despite the smile-making scars. Even as he tried to calm himself, his body was tight, holding in his fury and still trembling with it.

"I _swear_…you bring out-ah…the _worst_ in me…" the Joker said carefully as he gradually regained his composure. He released his nose and tilted his head back, tossing his green hair out of his face, opening his mouth and inhaling through it before leaning forward, opening his eyes and meeting my terrified gaze. A grin stretched over his scarred lips as he read my expression, and he chuckled softly.

"Ya know, Shadow," he said, his voice steady, calm. "There's a little _fight_ in you." He giggled. "No, not-ah _just_ a little fight. You've got-ah _guts_, a fighting spirit…I _like_ that." He gave a hearty laugh and then leaned over me again, resting on his forearms. "I'm not-ah in _love_ with you, Shadow, if _that's_ what-ah you're worried about. I'll admit, I _like_ you, but-ah not to that point."

"At least you're honest," I said, faintly, and the Joker's face twisted, like he was suddenly sick to his stomach. It passed though, and I pushed the prior incident out of my mind, pretending like it never happened – something that the Joker obviously had already done.

"It's the very _notion_ of love that frightens me," I told him, quietly.

He gave me a curious look, even though his eyes seemed devoid of emotion. "Why?" he asked.

I turned my head away, feeling a strong sense of reluctance. The Joker was pressing for another piece of information on me, a piece of me that, like how I had came to become a criminal, I had hidden from everyone. I never had a close relationship with anyone since I was betrayed four years ago, when I was only twenty and inexperienced. The betrayal still hurt me, even years later, since it had been my first, and only, love and I had retreated from many others because of that.

"I've told you be-_fore_, Shadow," the Joker said, calmly as he cupped my chin. "Deal with it-ah and it doesn't bother you ah-_gain_. Get it-ah _off_ your shoulders. I'm a good _listener_."

In spite of myself, I cracked a small smile, because I _knew_ he was a good listener. I had revealed a piece of my past to him before, and he didn't take advantage of it, didn't use it against me. Instead, he had acted like a friend and had held me, comforted me, as I tried to face it.

If not a boss, or partner-in-crime, I have to admit that I considered the Joker a friend, despite who he was and what he did. He isn't the same as a best friend, but he was a friend, nonetheless. Better than having just myself…

"Love's caused me pain for years, starting with the loss of my family and the torture my father had put me through. I even lost someone who was very _special_ to me, _before_ my family. But, despite how much those hurt, betrayal had to be the worst emotional pain I had experienced. _You've_ been betrayed before…by someone you loved." The Joker's eyes hardened, but I plunged on. "I won't say that mine was worse, but that doesn't make mine better. I've had a number of boyfriends, but none of them were as special to me as my first one, the one who had betrayed me, deceiving and breaking me with love. To me, love is a lie. Love is a noose that doesn't work correctly. It just straggles you until death finally takes you."

"Now _there's_ the difference," the Joker said, softly. He pointed to his scars. "For me, betrayal led to, ah, to _physical_ pain."

"While mine led to emotional pain."

The Joker dropped his hand by my head, and he licked his lips slowly, his eyes considering. "Two _broken_ people," he said quietly. "Who would have thought-ah that they'd find one another?" The Joker chewed the inside of his cheek.

I narrowed my eyes with confusion, despite my awakened pain, unsure if he was talking to me or to himself. His eyes flickered over my face, as if he was searching for the answer in my expression. I became aware of how close he was to me, our bodies nearly touching, only his forearms holding him off me.

The Joker slid a hand behind my neck as he leaned in, his eyes fixed on mine. My lips trembled as his brushed them lightly, tentatively. His hand behind my neck pressed me into him, his mouth moving slowly against mine. I hesitated, unsure of what to do.

He noticed my hesitation, and he pulled away gently, his eyes searching mine for an explanation.

I gazed back into his eyes, and sadness overwhelmed me. The Joker's mouth twitched, and he brought his face closer to mine. "Don't," I said quietly, and he halted. "I don't mean to hurt you, but…I can't…" I closed my eyes, pained, turning my head to bury it into the pillow propping me up.

The Joker didn't move right away, remaining still for several seconds. Then, I felt the couch shift as he leaned in closer, and his mouth lightly touched my cheekbone before pulling away. I did not react to this as the Joker climbed off me carefully, and I listened intently, hearing his quiet footsteps as he walked around the couch. I heard the door close quietly, gently, and I knew he had gone.

* * *

**Lordlink13: And so the inner conflict begins. Broken people stick together, at **_**all costs**_**. I don't know about you, but this has been my favorite chapter, thus far; not I can say much since I love every chapter I've written, and I'm the writer so I'd **_**have**_** to love all of the story – except for a few parts where I had difficulty…ahem, so, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. And I'm happy to hear that so many people like this story, and I'm just throwing this out there that if you have a problem with this story, please, tell me about it. The point of criticism is to make the writer better. Read and review, guys! I love you all, even the belated **Sin** - whom I'd like to warn in case the Clown Prince of Crime discovers the previous review. He doesn't handle being ignored very well - ahem, him going to bother Shadow earlier in this chapter****! So, to conclude, enjoy life because I know _I_ am! Until next time!**


	20. Hidden Rage

I steadied myself as I rolled up my sleeves before setting my shoulders back, lifting my Glock G21. Aiming at the bull's-eyes that were spray-painted on the far wall of the apartment basement, I took a deep breath to calm myself, and then I depressed the trigger slowly, getting the feel of the gun in my hand.

Reaching the point that I felt connected to both the gun and the bull's eye I was currently aiming at, I fired in rapid succession. The gunshots ricocheted off the cement walls of the basement. I kept my arm steady as I shot each round, shell cases plinking onto the floor at my feet.

My gun clicked to tell me it was empty and without pause, I loaded it and continued firing, this time at the second bull's eye.

As I got in some target practice, I tried to forget what had occurred merely minutes ago. I didn't want to remember having that moment with the Joker, with my partner-in-crime, with my _boss_. I hated myself for admitting something that I would regret admitting for the rest of my life. What did the Joker care about me and my fear of love, only because I was a woman who was broken at heart and in soul? I had expected the Joker to laugh at me, to mock me for my foolishness, to even put me out of my misery. I hadn't expected him to show me sympathy, least of all _kiss_ me as a way of comforting me!

My gun was empty again, and I simply reloaded it and continued my little rant against the third bull's eye.

If I could deal with the pain, I would've tried to kill myself for telling the Joker about my foolishness. With him, I had made so many mistakes, and I found myself wishing, hoping, _dreaming_ for the day he would finally put me down like a dog!

Tears escaped my eyes as I fired my third round, and I didn't bother to wipe them, letting them blur my vision to the point that I was missing the bull's eye and hitting the wall around the targets.

The clicking at the end of the round set me off, and I leaned back against the wall, only to slide down, resting my head on my arms. I didn't cry, but the tears flowed anyway; I didn't try to hold them back, just let them go.

"Tormented." I raised my head to see the blurry purple figure of the Joker standing on the bottom step of the stairs, his hands holding the railings on both sides to keep him steady. "You're a _tormented_ soul, _Sha_-dow."

"It isn't something I can control," I murmured.

The Joker lifted himself off his feet and swung his body back and forth for a few seconds before jumping down, turning his head to look at my spray-painted targets on the wall. "I believe you _missed_ on the last-ah round," he said, casually.

"Thanks for telling me," I said as I rested my head on my arms again after roughly drying my eyes on my sleeves. I heard the Joker's footsteps coming closer, and I sensed his presence as he crouched in front of me. He placed a hand on my shoulder, to which I pushed away.

Neither of us moved nor spoke for a few moments before the Joker tried again, this time placing his hand on my head and stroking my hair.

I snapped my hand down on his wrist and looked up, glaring at him coldly. "What did you _not_ under-_stand_, Joker? I don't want you _touching_ me."

The Joker looked hurt by my sharp tone, and he stood and turned away. Almost immediately, I regretted how I had treated him. He was only human, like me, like the cops of the city, like Batman. He had emotions, even though it was difficult to reach them.

Abruptly, the Joker spun around, grabbing me under the arm. Within seconds, he had me standing, trapped against the wall, with his hands by either side of my head. His brown eyes seemed to darken with the rapid swirl of his emotions, his lean frame trembling slightly.

"Broken…_tor_-mented…and _tem-per-amen-tal_," the Joker growled, empathizing each syllable. "Just. Like. _Me_."

"I don't wanna be like you," I murmured, meekly.

"Too bad, _dar_-ling. That's _who_ you _are_. You can't es-_cape_ it. Be-_lieve_ me, I've _tried_." His tongue slid quickly over his scarred lips. "Whatever happened, put it _behind_ you. We've got _work_ to do."

The Joker pushed off the wall and headed for the stairs.

"What are we doing?" I asked. I knew by now – after being with him for sixteen days – that he wasn't going to tell me, but I thought I'd ask anyway; it being a habit at this point.

The Joker stopped and half-turned, his head low and his eyes flickering with the constant swirl of emotion. "I owe Raven a _favor_, and you're gonna _help_ me." He turned away, took one step, and then halted again. "Unless…you'd rather stay _here_," he said in an undertone.

With the undertone, I didn't know if he was warning me _not_ to stay here or if he was warning me of his _reaction_ if I answered affirmative to staying behind.

Strange as it sounds, I didn't want to separate myself from him, despite after what had occurred earlier between us – even if he _did_ put it behind him already. I wasn't going to put it behind me; I was going to _face_ it.

"I'll help you," I said simply.

He didn't move for a moment, but I had the impression that he was grinning because of his victory. As he bounded up the stairs, two steps at a time, I couldn't help rolling my eyes. With the Joker, you almost had to think of everything as a game.

As I reloaded my gun, I realized how controlled I felt over my emotions. I had lost that control when the Joker pressed for something I didn't want to reveal, and even _he_ lost control with me, like he was in tuned to my emotions. Or it could've been the other way around.

Either way, I thought as I raced upstairs, in similar fashion to the Joker, if one of us was feeling down, the other was only dragged down with them.

* * *

From the outside, Arkham Asylum looked depressing and scary with its spiderlike name on the front gate, the tall towers, the spikes, the design of an ancient castle – in my opinion – and the foreboding darkness that the building held. Located in the Narrows, I wasn't too surprised by the darkness of it, but I was scared looking at the place, _especially_ since the Joker was telling the story about Fear Night – as Gotham called it.

It was the night that Rā's Al Ghūl (aka. "The Demon's Head") had used the fear toxin created by Dr. Jonathan Crane, also known as Scarecrow, on the city to turn its inhabitants against one another, simply to destroy the corrupt city before it contaminated others. This wasn't the _first_ appearance of the Dark Knight, but it was really the first time that Batman had saved the city from destruction.

"Scarecrow's all about fear," the Joker said, "He was a _tool_, letting Rā's Al Ghū use him for his plan to, ah, to turn the city's in-_hab_-itants _against_ each other."

"You've done something similar," Raven remarked from the driver's seat.

"Have I?" the Joker asked, confused.

"When you set up the two ferries to blow each other up before midnight or you'll blow them _both_ sky high."

"At least _I_ used _natural_ fear," he argued.

Raven shrugged carelessly. "Don't argue with me. Argue with Scarecrow."

A low growl of irritation emanated from the Joker's throat, and she just smiled and drove toward the front gate. She rolled down the window and slipped in an ID card into a slot. The gate opened, and she drove through.

I couldn't help but shudder at the looks of Arkham Asylum. I glanced at the Joker, wondering how he could _stand_ being in such a place. Was he really insane before they brought him here, or did this place _drive_ him over the edge?

Sensing my gaze, the Joker turned his head and caught my eyes before I could look away. He grinned as he slid over next to me and wrapped his arm over my shoulder. At the touch, I flinched and tried to press myself against my cardoor, but the Joker wasn't having any of it, being stronger than I.

"Welcome to, ah, to my _second_ home, Shadow," the Joker chuckled softly. "Doesn't _look_ like much, but it's a temporary home."

If he was trying to comfort me, it was in vain.

Raven parked the car off the side where it was well hidden, and we got out. The Joker stood still for a few moments, simply staring up at his "second home". He murmured something, and I thought I caught him saying, "…two weeks and…few days."

"Talking to yourself, Mistah J?" I asked him, in a teasing tone, one that was forced since I still had a terrified sense of the place.

"Talking out-ah _loud_," he explained. "I've only been _out_ of Arkham for two weeks and a few days."

"Wait, _what_?"

"You heard me, Shadow. A day before you _arrived_ in Gotham, I was here." The Joker smiled as he half-turned toward me. "I can't figure out if it's _bet_-ter coming here on my own free _will_ or if the _cops_ were bringing me."

"It's probably better with you going in with the cops," Raven replied as she approached us after locking the car. "_That_ way, we know you're going in and aren't coming out for awhile."

The Joker looked at her with surprise, his eyes wide in the puppy impression. "Do you _really_ hate me _that_ _much_, Raven?"

"Is that a trick question?" she asked in return. Seeing the Joker's eyes flash with anger, I stepped in between them.

"C'mon, let's go and get this over with," I said. And to avoid having to explain myself, I headed toward the front doors of the place, despite the terror that was building inside me. I was somewhat relieved when I heard their footsteps behind me, and it helped that the Joker caught up to me to walk beside me. However, I kept my eyes forward, not wanting to meet his curiosity.

When we approached the door, I grabbed the Joker's arm, purposely avoiding his hand, as Raven moved forward and inserted the same ID card she had used before. The huge door swung open easily on oiled hinges, and the three of us slipped in – Raven using invisibility and the Joker sharing my shadowmelding through touch.

"What's the ID that you're using?" I asked quietly.

"A staff member's. It's for an intern named Alexis Paige."

"A fake name, I'm guessing."

"An alias. Every criminal has one." I felt a shift in the air, and by using my shadow sight, I saw Raven look pointedly at the Joker. "Well…I don't know about _him_."

"Bozo's one," the Joker replied, annoyed.

Raven shrugged and dropped the conversation. At least my curiosity about the card was satisfied. "Okay, Joker, you're the only one who's been here, and surely you know your way around this place."

The Joker giggled softly. "I don't think I _remember_ after two weeks out-ah." Since I could see it, I stomped on his feet, digging my heel in. To his credit, he didn't even make a sound when he jerked violently with the pain.

"Lead the way, Clownboy," Raven volunteered, dramatizing it by swinging her arms forward. Of course, the Joker couldn't see it, but I did.

I realized that if he went first, I had to also, which didn't settle well with me when I couldn't help but feel scared of the very environment of this place. Not once in my years as a criminal have I got caught. I've been close, but I've always feared being locked up. So when the Joker stepped forward, I gave him a sharp yank on his arm, silently protesting.

"Ah, Raven, maybe _you_ should go _first_," the Joker said.

"Why? Are you scared?"

"If I _have_ to ex-_plain_ it, _your_ hands are free so if you're first, then Shadow and I can, ah, _back_ you up, should we come across-."

"Is _Shadow_ the one who's-?"

"Shush," I said sharply as I pulled the Joker toward the nearest wall. I saw Raven press herself against the wall on his other side before a guard came walking around the corner. It was his whistling that had alerted me of his approach, and here he was, walking by us, whistling and swinging his baton carelessly.

I felt the Joker stiffened, and I tightened my grip on his arm, silently warning him against any action he was fantasizing in his head. We waited until the guard had turned another corner, disappearing from view, before we relaxed – or rather, Raven and the Joker to relax; me, I didn't bother loosening my grip on the Joker's arm.

Noticing it, he chuckled quietly and patted my hand, like he knew of my fear of the place. "You'll get-ah _used_ to it," he whispered into my ear, which surprised me that he could see me as a shadow, despite him sharing the ability with our physical contact.

"All right, let's go," Raven whispered, and she led the way. We climbed one staircase, took a turn, got me lost in a series of hallways, taking two more stairs and turning down to what had to be the left wing of the asylum before we arrived at the Maximum Security Wing.

"Comforting place," I remarked, trying to keep my courage up. "I'd hate to be kept in here."

"You'll end up here if you're ever caught, Shadow," Raven said.

"But I'm not insane."

"It's not going to be a question of, ah, of whether or not you're in-_sane_," the Joker said. "If they find out about your ability, which they _have_, you'll be kept _here_ for safekeeping." He chuckled softly. "I wonder how they'd keep you from _shadowing_ away."

"They'd put restraints on her," Raven replied, and I wished that I could shadow out of this place.

"I'd be driven insane," I murmured as Raven moved around the corner after motioning for us to stay.

"This is an asylum, _Sha_-dow," the Joker said, amused. "They _cure_ you of insanity here."

"Yeah, and you're proof of their 'curing' skills." I didn't have to look to see that the Joker's mood had darkened because of my remark. The growl emanating from his chest only proved it.

Raven returned, leaning against the wall beside me for a few seconds, breathing heavily. "This could be difficult," she said, brushing her hair out of her face with a hand.

"How difficult?" the Joker asked.

"They've just doubled security since the _last_ time I was here-."

"When was the last time?" I asked.

"Two days ago. Seems like someone alerted them about some possible action happening tonight." She glared in the direction she had heard the Joker's voice.

"Wasn't me," he protested, lifting his hands, widening his eyes so that he had innocent puppy eyes.

I jabbed him with my elbow. "She can't _see_ you," I reminded him.

The Joker growled as he ripped his arm out of my grip, appearing to anyone's vision. I lunged forward to grab him, but he dodged me, tripping me with a well-placed foot. I fell into a roll and came up in a crouch, glaring at him over my shoulder.

The Joker grinned in my general direction. "Sorry, Shadow, Raven," he said, "But-ah I'm not the kind of guy who enjoys _sneak_-ing." Even though he couldn't see me, the Joker bounded over, grabbed my arm, and yanked me to my feet, only to press his lips against mine in a quick kiss. Before I could react, he pulled away and said, "Wish me luck." Then, the Joker bounded around the corner, and I gasped with surprise – either a stalled reaction to him kissing or to him being an idiot and running out into the open.

"Home, sweet home!" the Joker yelled loudly. I ran to catch up with him, but skidded to a stop as I saw him facing six surprised guards with his arms up and out in glee. "Hey!" the Joker protested. "I don't remember _this_ many guards!"

The guards regained their control and four of them pulled out their side-arms, firing around the Joker. He burst out laughing at them when they finished one round.

"Ya _missed_!" the Joker shrieked gleefully.

"Stay where you are, Joker," one guard ordered.

"Sorry, buddy, you haven't captured me _yet_!" He laughed. "I hope you're good at running!" He spun on his heel and ran for it, shouting, "Catch me if you _can_!" over his shoulder.

Three of them took up the chase right away, and I basically threw myself at the wall to avoid being trampled by them. The Joker was already out of sight, but I could hear his laughter echoing as the three guards after him disappeared from view.

The last three hung back a bit, one of them calling for backup, another racing over to the security booth, while the third raced past me to check the other side of the hallway, obviously not seeing Raven with her back pressed against the wall.

"The Joker's in the building," the calling guard said into his walkie-talkie. "He's running away from the Maximum Security Wing, headed off in a random direction." He paused for some static to talk back, and he told the mechanical voice "affirmative". The guard called to his two companions, the one at the booth responding while the wandering one didn't.

I saw Raven peek around the corner, and realized that I should have acted before this.

I leaped at the guard still holding his walkie-talkie, and I kicked it out of his hand. He gasped in surprise as his eyes watched the object fly toward the ceiling. That had to be the last he saw as I knocked him unconscious. His partner at the booth was running over, looking around cautiously, but I ran toward him, jumping and executing a roundhouse kick to his head.

I landed in a crouch and called out, "What now, Raven?"

"The guys in the booth are next," she told me as she ran to my side. We moved together, running for the security booth. One guard from inside who had heard the commotion outside opened the door, but I grabbed it and shoved it back, hitting him in the face with it. The man stumbled back, holding his nose and crying in pain. I might have broken his nose, but at that moment, a rush of adrenaline flooded through my system and I felt myself fall into my shadow state.

Raven rushed inside before me, leaving me standing vulnerable in the doorway. A guard stood from his seat, dropping his donut to pull out his gun. He fired in my direction, but I shadowed behind him, hitting him with the baton from his belt. My invisible companion appeared before the guard who with broken nose, causing him to yelp with surprise. She smiled at him and then punched him in the mouth, probably knocking some teeth out.

The last guard had time to recover. He grabbed his baton and tried to hit me with it. I lifted my borrowed weapon to block it, but that left me with no free hands. The guard grabbed me by my leather vest, and he pulled me closer to him.

I lifted my knee, hitting him between his legs. He grunted in pain, and his hold tightened in an attempt to control me.

I hit the guard in the gut, causing him to double-over. Smashing my baton into the back of his head, I knocked him down to the floor.

"Efficient," Raven complimented, and I smiled, twirling the baton a bit before placing it on a chair. "I didn't think we needed a distraction, but the Joker seems to have this sixth sense to know when we need one."

"He'll be caught," I said, collapsing into a vacant swivel chair.

"Heck, no, he's _not_. If he's gotta run, he's gonna run. He'll be difficult to catch without help. The only man I've seen catch him alone is Batman, and Batman cheated."

"How did he cheat?" I asked.

"He's dressed up as a _bat_, Shadow. He _flew_." She gave me a look like it should have been obvious, which I suppose it was; I was just slow.

"_So_…what's the plan now?" I inquired.

"Are you good with technology?" I nodded. "Hacking?" Again, I nodded. "All right, you're going to control the hallway and the cameras of what I tell you." Raven looked around the room, like she was searching, and I looked around too, realizing that this security booth had many screens that showed two prisoners, a few empty rooms, and the main hallways. The rest of the screens were blank.

"So, there's only two prisoners," I said. "Which one are we breaking out?" Raven glanced at the two and pointed to one. I read the name off the piece of tape on the bottom of the screen. "Scarecrow? He's your boss?"

"Boss and friend," Raven answered. "I'm going to talk to him so I want you to keep the microphone off that cell. When I signal you, freeze that camera, and then unlock his door. Got it?"

"Seems easy enough," I remarked, turning in the swivel chair toward the controls.

"What cell is he?" she asked.

"Cell ten," I told her as I located the controls for the named room. Raven thanked me and left the booth, closing the door behind her.

I watched her out of the booth's glass windows until she halted in front of one of the cells. Clicking the silent button, I disabled cell ten's microphones from picking up sound. While Raven spoke to her boss, I took a look at the other occupant currently in his cell.

The man was sleeping at this hour, lying on his cell bed, but there seemed to be a blue hue to his skin. He lacked hair, and his entire room seemed to be glowing in soft blue light, which might have made his skin look blue. At the bottom of the screen, it read: _Mr. Freeze_.

I blinked and looked at the man who was known for freezing people to death. The Joker had told me that Mr. Freeze used diamonds to power up his freeze gun so it wasn't really a special ability for him. He wore a specialized suit that kept his body at a cold temperature because apparently if he lived outside a certain temperature, his organs melted. The blue light must be the coldness that he needed to survive outside his suit.

Turning my attention to the other screen, I looked at the man named Scarecrow.

He appeared to be in his late twenties, at least. I could see his longish brown hair covering his eyes. He was wearing the traditional light blue jumpsuit that asylums forced their occupants to wear. He had his head turned toward his cell door, his mouth moving as he spoke with Raven. I saw Raven gesture to him, and Scarecrow looked up, directly at the camera.

I jumped, leaning back hard in my chair at the sight of his icy blue eyes. I could _feel_ him analyzing me through the camera lens. It was simply too _freaky_ for words. It only lasted a second, but even when he returned his attention to Raven, my heart was still beating at an unsteady pace from the fright.

I looked out of the booth window, and I saw Raven step away from the cell door, closing the slot. Frightened, I peeked over at Scarecrow's screen to see that he was lying down, settling himself comfortably like he was going to sleep. I avoided looking at his eyes until a few seconds passed, which I saw that he had closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep.

I paused his cell's camera, locked his cell, and then walked over to the door, opening it and giving Raven a thumbs-up. Raven nodded and opened Scarecrow's door. I went back and collapsed into the swivel chair, finally noticing the flashing red light over the door. I reached over the control panel and switched the alarm off before leaning back.

Unfortunately, my elbow also applied pressure on the red alert button, setting off a loud siren.

I jumped out of my seat and ran for the booth door. I came out just as Raven and Scarecrow had passed the booth. Without pausing, I ran after them, letting them lead me out. We proceeded towards the entrance of Arkham, almost reaching the door when I came skidding to a stop.

"Let's _go_, Shadow," Raven yelled.

"You go ahead," I said, turning around and running up the stairs. "Meet you at the car!"

About this time, guards and late-night doctors were running around, yelling at one another and telling the inmates who woke up with the siren to settle down. I ducked around several people, diving between legs when it was necessary. As I concentrated, I could hear the Joker's laughter over the other noise in the asylum. For a few seconds, I thought I could even hear his breathing and his…heartbeat?

A rush of energy burst through me, and I felt my steps grow slightly heavy as I pounded down the corridors, dodging people left and right. I sensed that I was catching up with my partner-in-crime as the hallways started to become deserted. Of course, that should have warned me as I turned around a corner and skidded to a quick halt as I heard the Joker's laughter nearby.

"I've _missed_ you, Doc," the Joker chuckled from behind a door next to me. "What's wrong with a, ah, a _visit_?" I pressed my ear against the door, wondering why the Joker would be inside a room with one of the doctors.

"It shouldn't be a simple visit," a woman's voice replied. "You should turn yourself in."

The Joker giggled, and I thought I heard something slamming down on a hard surface. "_Har_-ley, that's just-ah _not_ something I'd _do_."

I stiffened as I heard the guards' yells growing close, and I reached for the doorknob. Slowly, I began turning it, even as a guard shouted, "Where is the Joker's doctor? Is she still here?"

"They're coming for you now," the woman told the Joker. "Believe me, it's better if you give up now and let us take you in again."

The Joker snorted in response.

"I'm _serious_," the woman exclaimed. "I'm trying to _help_ you, Mister J."

I stopped turning the doorknob, just as the Joker burst out in hysterical laughter. The Joker allowed this female doctor to call him the same name he gave me? For some reason, that made my grip on the doorknob tighten, making my jaw clench. I became angry, but I couldn't acknowledge that emotion for long as a man's voice said, "I hear him! He's this way!"

The voice – though distant still and different from when I had last heard it – was still _very_ recognizable, and my body heat rose, burning with unspeakable rage.

The guards turned the corner, and I shadowed inside, settling directly behind the Joker's doctor who had been standing behind her desk. Angrily, I gripped the back of her head and shoved it down, knocking her on her desk and stepping to the side as I threw her back, watching her fall on the ground, unconscious.

Breathing heavily, I looked up at the Joker, seeing his shock before the guards kicked open the door, bursting into the room. They filed in, training their weapons on him, and he raised his hands in surrender. I quickly shadowed behind him and was about to grab him as the Joker whistled loudly.

"Well, well, if it isn't the Iceman catcher," the Joker said, "_Lieu_-tenant _Hawk_-ins."

I felt my blood boil with my hatred and rage, and I closed my eyes, hiding behind the Joker so that I didn't see _him_. I tried to focus, breathing sharply through my nose, leaning my head against the back of the Joker's neck, resting my hands on his shoulders only to find myself clenching my fists around a fistful of his jacket.

Through my blinding rage, I sensed a wince, and the Joker jerked out of my grip.

"Freeze, Joker!" one of the guards ordered.

The Joker gave a painful laugh. "Sorry, that's not _my_ style; that's Mr. _Freeze's_."

I couldn't be in that room any longer, unless I was going to snap. I grabbed the Joker by the waist and shadowed us out of Arkham, bringing us to the front steps. Immediately, I released him and walked rapidly down the stairs, heading for the car where Raven and Scarecrow waited.

"Whoa, talk about a dra-_matic_ exit," the Joker giggled as he ran to catch up with me.

"Get in the car," I growled, my voice hard with barely contained anger. I went around the BMW and opened my door, stepping in and slamming the door closed. The Joker was smart enough to obey me without a word, and even as Raven threw the car in reverse, I could sense his steady gaze on me as I leaned forward, pressing my forehead hard into the back of Raven's seat, digging my nails into my forearm to give myself enough pain to distract me.

If I had remained in that room for just a _second_ longer, the only two people alive would be me and the Joker – and even _then_, I doubted the _Joker_ would still be alive.

The Joker told me once that insanity went a long way with him. For me, it was hidden rage.

* * *

**Lordlink13:**** Now **_**that's**_** scary. Second time for the uncontrollable rage to appear, first one being in chapter 18 – didn't catch it? Go back and read it again – and it's all triggered by a certain person. Who is it? And what happened between them and Shadow in the past? Questions popping in **_**your**_** heads, readers? Review and tell me your thoughts. ****And don't get mad at **Maggie**, it was a suggestion, guys.**** I'll admit that I agree with her about the 'ah's, even though I put them in there to make the **_**sound**_** he makes with his words. Sorta like when you add the 'ah' sound to a 't' to make 'tah'. Read as _part_ of the word, not as an added word attached to the first with a ****dash.**** I'm trying to base it off how he seems to add extra sounds, like he's breathing loudly as he's talking. ****(I'll admit, I'm trying to learn how to do his voice, and must've listened to _just_ the audio a million times without success.) ****I know people love me, and I just you all just as much but don't _pound_ people who make suggestions. I hope this chapter was less frustrating for you, **Maggie**. If anyone else has a problem, let me know, and don't take it personally if the other readers decide to get a bite out of you - like you're all _dogs_, just as our dear Mistah J taught you ;). I don't want this story to be frustrating to read; I want it to be enjoyable.**** And **Sin**, do I get my hug for this week?****  
**


	21. Joker's Question

I remained still as Raven drove away from Arkham, my head pressed against the back of her seat, my nails still digging into my arm. I was even biting down on my lower lip, trying to focus on the pain I was inflicting on myself to keep myself from losing it.

It wasn't long. The one person who _obviously_ enjoyed interrupting me stepped in.

The Joker grabbed my hand and tore it away from my forearm, leaving bloodied nail marks in my arm. He shoved me hard back in my seat and then pulled me down so that I was lying on my side on the backseat. The Joker moved, practically standing in the back, leaning over me.

The hatred had moved on, but the rage hadn't left. I raised my hands to hit him, but he quickly snapped his down on my wrists, pushing them down on the seat. I fought him, my rage fueling me, making me stronger, and I almost sat up, fighting against the Joker's strength, coming even with him.

Then, a savage growl rumbled from his chest, and the Joker threw me back down on the seat, throwing a leg over my lower body to keep me down, straddling me. I growled back at him, and his eyes seemed to turn black as he growled, "_Don't_."

I lied still, glaring up at him, my chest rising and falling rapidly with anger. The Joker didn't back down, becoming as angry as me to overpower me.

Mentally, I wasn't there, having lost control to that rage, but as the Joker continued to stare that fury down, I felt my control come to the surface slowly, the madness cracking. It seemed to seep out of me slowly, leaking out onto the backseat and down to the floor of the car. I imagined it escaping through the floor and falling onto the paved road underneath the car, falling behind me.

I closed my eyes as the last of it left me, and I took a deep shuddering breath, feeling my body tremble with the release of anger. When I opened my eyes, the Joker too seemed back to normal, his eyes returned to the usual brown color, his tongue sliding over his scarred lips, his expression calm.

"Sorry," I said quietly.

A smile crept onto his face. "Nice to see you _back_," he commented. "I thought I might have to _knock_ you back to your _senses_."

I smiled faintly as a pounding headache emerged. "I'm glad you _didn't_." I started to rise, but the Joker pushed me back down, roughly. "Look, I'm okay."

"No, you're staying _down_." He growled the last word as I tried a second time to sit up. He turned his head sharply, and from the side, I saw his eyes narrow as he snapped, "What are _you_ looking at?"

I turned my head to see Scarecrow, who was sitting in the passenger's seat, turn to face forward.

"Shadow, you okay?" Raven asked, her tone concerned.

"She's _fine_," the Joker growled, his anger surfacing. I noticed that he was trembling, but from what, I couldn't know. He didn't look at me, only remained straddling me, moving his head around at irregular intervals as he watched out of all the windows in the BMW. Sensing his curdling fury, I didn't try to sit up, for fear of him yelling at me and shoving me down again.

As I laid there on the backseat, I closed my eyes, my brow frowning as I thought back of what had activated anger that I had buried deep inside for years. It was _him_, Lieutenant Hawkins, the man I _least_ wanted to see, the man I most wanted to _kill_. I didn't think that he had tracked me down to Gotham City, especially since it sounded like he had been here for much longer than I.

I inhaled sharply through flared nostrils, and I felt the Joker shift. "I'm fine," I said quietly, trying to keep my voice even.

"Doesn't _seem_ like it," the Joker whispered close to my ear. Beneath the anger in his voice, I thought I heard something else. Could it be, no it couldn't be…was there _concern_ in the Joker's voice?

Abruptly, I became aware of my actual position, similar to when I had been lying on the couch and the Joker straddled me. Even without opening my eyes, I could sense the Joker's face close to mine by his warm breath on my face and neck. My heart pounded furiously in my chest as my head throbbed painfully, a headache emerging. The slight shift of the Joker's weight alerted me.

I snapped open my eyes, and with a strong heave, I shoved him off me, pushing him so hard that he flew back into his cardoor, hitting his head on the safety handle over the door. The Joker groaned as he slouched, rubbing the back of his head rapidly. I pulled myself out from underneath him, placing my feet on the floor and shifting over to my original seat, leaning against the door and glaring hard out of the window with a hand on my forehead to try to ease the throbbing.

My eyes focused outside, I heard the Joker shifting as he settled himself into his seat, slumping down and resting his head back. My heart was still pounding from what had transferred between the two of us, and I feared the worst from my reaction.

I heard Raven and Scarecrow speaking to one another in low voices, like they didn't want the Joker and me to hear. It didn't bother me, but I heard the Joker shift, impatiently.

I rested my head against the window, placing my arm between as a pillow. Closing my eyes, I felt my weariness easing up on me, and I opened an eye to quickly glance at my watch. Of course, it was one twenty in the morning. My sleeping schedule had never been permanent since the Joker had taken me in. I was working nights, sleeping during the day. I felt wired all the time, except when I actually had time to think of how tired I was. At least I was sleeping eight hours a night – or day.

I must have dozed off because next thing I knew, the car was slowing down as it turned and someone was gently shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes and rubbed them, pushing myself up to a sitting position. It took me a few seconds to realize that I hadn't fallen asleep lying down.

The Joker leaned forward between the front seats. "No more favors," he said.

"Thanks anyway," Raven said. She half-turned in her seat to shake hands with the Joker, and I believe the Joker shook the hands of Scarecrow while he was at it.

"You might not care, but I appreciate you getting me out," Scarecrow told the Joker, his voice even and calm.

"Anytime," the Joker growled. He pulled back and opened his cardoor, stepping out.

I climbed out, and Raven rolled down her window. "Thank-you for helping, Shadow," Raven said.

"Glad I could help," I replied, approaching her window. I moved close so that I didn't have to deal with Scarecrow's eyes watching me. "I'll see you around."

"The meeting, if not sooner."

"Yeah, right."

After Raven had pulled away from the apartment, the Joker headed for the door. I ran ahead and raced up the back steps, turning and blocking the way to the door. The Joker, seeing this, looked at me, confused. I just stood there, glaring at him, arms crossed over my chest. The Joker sighed, rolling his eyes, before asking, "Any par-_tic_-ular reason _why_ you're _blocking_ the entrance?"

"Do I _need_ one?" I spat, irritated.

"Yes," he said, curtly.

"Mind explaining about your 'doctor' back in Arkham?"

The Joker lowered his head, looking at me from underneath his brow, and his expression took on a form of amusement. "Are we _jeal_-ous, _Sha_-dow?"

"No, just confused," I said, and then regretted it. He was going to take that the wrong way. "Just worried that my partner-in-crime will get distracted."

The Joker started laughing. "_Real_-ly, Shadow? As if I could get _distracted_ by a blonde chick. She's good-looking, but she's my _doctor_. A doctor-patient relationship with _that_ woman is _good_ enough for me."

"As if _that_ was an excuse," I growled, and he flashed his Glasgow smile at me, making me feel uneasy. I cleared my throat and tried again. "You let some people call you 'Mister J'. It's not just me."

"Did you _think_ you were _that_ _special_?" He burst out laughing as he climbed the stairs, shoving me against the door.

"Ouch, that hurts," I remarked as my back met the door. The Joker came close, licking his lips as he placed his hands on either side of my head. "Maybe I'm _not_ as special as I thought, but you didn't need to burst my bubble."

"You never _had_ a bubble with me," the Joker chuckled. He playfully shoved me aside and opened the door.

"So do you not like being called 'Joker'?" I asked, following him inside.

"I don't-ah _mind_ it." He flicked on the lights and headed upstairs with me on his heels. "I just _prefer_ Mister J when I'm _closer_ to the person."

"Like me, or your psychiatrist."

"Right." I fell into a reluctant silence, wishing I could say something that would catch him off guard, but I couldn't think of anything.

I was surprised as I followed the Joker that the apartment was devoid of his henchmen. I didn't ask, trusting the Joker to tell me when he thought I needed to know.

He opened his bedroom door, holding it for me. "Pack your things," he told me, "We're leaving."

"Grown bored of this apartment?" I asked as I pulled out my duffel bag from under the bed. The bed had been stripped of its blankets and pillows, leaving a bare king-sized mattress.

"Just-ah found a _bet_-ter place." The Joker propped his side against the doorway, watching me as I threw a few little things into the duffel bag since the majority of my belongings remained in the bag.

I reached for my iPod from the nightstand, and as I lifted it, something fell to the ground. Quickly, I snatched it in its descent and looked at it. I froze, staring at the picture in my hand.

"You…you didn't lose it," I whispered, startled.

"I could see how _precious_ it was to you," he replied, quietly.

I felt a tear escape my eye, and I reached up and brushed it away. "Thank you," I mumbled, my voice cracking.

The Joker chuckled softly, but I wasn't angry. I pulled out my wallet and slipped the picture into it. Storing it away, I slung the bag strap over my shoulder, and I headed for the door. The Joker stepped out of my way.

In the hall, I stopped and turned as he closed the door. "You're not bringing anything?" I asked, confused.

"Anything I own is _on_ me or taken _al_-ready." He motioned for me to lead the way, and I did.

As we approached my Toyota, the Joker skipped ahead, blocking my way, and held out his hand. I was forced to stop before I bumped into him. I looked up at him – since he was a few inches taller than me – and asked, "What?"

"I wanna drive."

With a sigh, I pulled my keys out of my pocket and tossed them to him. He grinned as he moved his hand, letting them drop on the ground. I didn't flinch, didn't move to pick them up; I just walked around the car to the passenger's side, throwing my duffel bag into the back.

After retrieving the keys, the Joker climbed in and started the car. He turned on the wipers and headlights as I stepped in, buckling my seatbelt. The Joker adjusted the rearview mirror and then placed his hand on the back of my seat as he cranked his neck to back out.

"You _could_ go forward," I told him.

"I know," he said. Abruptly, he stepped on the gas, backing out of the parking lot quickly and turning the wheel, causing the wheels to squeal in protest. Luckily, no one was on the street as he zoomed out before shifting gears and driving away from the apartment.

I didn't care much for the speed he was driving at. Showing my ease, I propped my feet against the dashboard and pulled out my wallet. Gingerly, I took the picture out, holding it delicately as I looked at the boy grinning back at me.

"Who is he?" the Joker asked, abruptly.

"My best friend," I replied, softly. "The only one I ever had." I looked out the window, watching the rain pouring down the glass. A heavy sigh escaped me.

"Miss him?"

"Yes, very much." I rested my head against my seat. "I haven't seen him for twelve years."

"Why is that?"

I shrugged. "He ran away."

"He _left _you?"

"I believe he had a reason." My pupils dilated as I looked past all the cars and buildings. "At least, that's what I'd _like_ to think." I turned my head, gazing at the picture. Touching my lips to my fingers, I kissed them and then pressed them to his face. "I've given up the hope that I'll find him."

The vehicle slowed for a split second, like the Joker had lifted his foot off the gas, as he turned the corner before accelerating again.

I didn't speak for a long time, staring out the window and looking into the distance.

"What's his name?" the Joker asked.

"None of your business." I didn't speak with a sharp tone, but my words held the hostility. I shifted my position, slouching slightly to rest my head against the seat.

"Just a _warn_-ing," the Joker said after a few moments of silence, "I'm gonna use your promised question." I stiffened, knowing that there was no way to escape. If he asked that question, I had to answer it fully and completely, meaning all details.

"Please don't…" I whispered, desperately. I glanced over at him, catching him in a moment of hesitation. His eyes had softened as he played with his mouth aggressively, threatening to chew on his lower lip. Then, he gave his head a slight shake, and he took a deep breath. I knew it was coming, and I couldn't do anything to avoid it.

"What is the back story of this, ah, _friend_ of yours?" the Joker asked, his voice steady, emotionless.

I didn't speak for what seemed like hours, even though they were only a few seconds. I didn't want to talk about my best friend; I was so _reluctant_, but…a promise was a promise.

"I met him in middle school," I said, turning my head to look out of the window, watching the city lights flash by. "It wasn't like we purposely found each other. I was quiet, had few friends, and always had my head in a book. I chanced by him in the office; he was a troublemaker, always having problems with school or with fights. You can say that we were the exact opposite of one another."

I cracked a small smile as the memories seeped back to me, from a hidden corner in my mind. "He found me at lunch and asked about the book I was reading. Pretty lame, for an attempt to try to make friends with me…"

"Why?" the Joker asked, curiously.

"I hated him because he had interrupted me while I was reading." I glanced over at the Joker, wondering if _he_ remembered when he had bothered me earlier today, the interruption that led to that kiss…

As if sensing my gaze, the Joker turned his head, his eyes empty of emotion as he returned the blank look I was giving him. I looked away, ducking my head and averting my eyes to the picture of my best friend.

"I didn't see him for about a week," I said, taking up my narrative from where I left off. "He came back, looking like he had gotten into a fight, and I was tempted to sit somewhere else. I don't know why, but I sat down across from him. He had taken a week to read the book he had asked me about so that we could talk about it. I was reluctant to talk to him about it, even though I had read it so many times before. To this day, that book's my favorite, and I hope it's still his…"

The Joker cleared his throat, and I fell silent, waiting for him to speak. "Is that _ruined_ book the one you're talking ah-_bout_? _Berry Tucker_?" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him turn his head to look at me. "I noticed that your handwriting wasn't the _only_ handwriting in that book."

"Yeah, he made comments in that book, and we'd trade-off throughout the day. We only saw one another at lunch or in the hallways so we would just hand it over whenever we saw each other."

"You were _real_-ly close to him."

"He was my best friend."

"_Was_? You mean, he's not anymore?"

"I told you I haven't seen him for twelve years." I felt my throat constrict with the pain. "He ran away from home…"

I fell silent, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to overwhelm me.

"What kind of person leaves their friend alone at the _worst_ time in their life?" the Joker said in a low, angered growl. I peeked at him to see that his grip on the steering wheel had tightened, and his face revealed the rage he felt.

"He ran away _before_ I-." My voice cracked, and I lost it. The tears flowed down my cheeks, and I leaned over, my hands covering my face. I dropped my best friend's picture on my lap, the last coherent thought that went through my mind to save it from getting wet or crumpled.

I felt a hand rubbing my back, and it gave me comfort, giving me strength to control my sobs after a few minutes.

I rested my head on the dashboard before me, wiping my eyes with my sleeves. I remained there for a few moments, listening to the rumble of the car as we drove through the city.

"What about you?" I asked in a quiet voice.

"What about me?" the Joker said.

"Did you have a friend you can remember?" He didn't reply, and I turned my head, looking at his stoical expression. "I know you didn't promise me a question like I promised you so you don't _have_ to answer if you don't want to."

The Joker licked his lips in response as he looked around in front of him, his eyes on the road. "Yeah…" he said, slowly, cautiously, "I can remember a friend I hung out with, but…I don't remember much since he killed himself a few months _after_ I met him."

I blinked, staring at him, but when he turned his head, I looked away. "I'm sorry to hear that," I mumbled.

"Don't be," he said. "It's in the past. We weren't _that_ _close_." He turned the car, and I felt the brake being pressed gradually until we came to a complete stop. "And here we are," the Joker announced, his voice suddenly normal.

I raised my head and narrowed my eyes against the harsh lighting in the building we were in. The Joker had my car turned off, and he was out before I was. I simply stared, trying to figure out where we were, while the Joker came around the vehicle and opened my door. Subconsciously, I took his offered hand and stepped out of my Toyota, looking around curiously, my emotions over my best friend pushed aside for the time being.

"Where are we?" I asked, looking at the metal ceiling maybe twenty or twenty-five feet overhead. There was a large model of a plane hanging from an old crane, and I wondered if we had moved into a museum for planes. Strange thing was that the model was crusted with icicles.

"Our new hideout," the Joker explained. "Go ah-head and look around. We'll be here for awhile." He reached into my seat, retrieving my dropped picture and handing it to me. Knowing what it was, I took it and stored it in my pocket without looking at it, sensing that it would just trigger my loss of control again.

"I'm guessing you moved out of the apartment because Raven knew where you were located," I said, over my shoulder.

The Joker pulled my duffel bag out from the backseat and threw the strap over his shoulder. He looked at me and grinned. "Of _course_, Shadow. I don't-ah want her appearing on my _doorstep_ whenever she wants ah-_nother_ favor." He adjusted my bag and added, "A guy needs his _privacy_ every _once_ in ah-_while_."

I smiled and looked away, amused by how _he_ thought he didn't have any privacy when in reality, it was _me_ who didn't have it.

The Joker came up beside, wrapping his arm around my waist. "_Well_," he said, expectantly, "Yah gonna go ex-_plore_?"

I smiled at him. "I don't _know_. I might get _lost_," I said, acting like a drama queen.

The Joker chuckled merrily and placed his hand at the small of my back, shoving me forward. "Go, _Sha_-dow, and if you get lost, I'll come _find_ you." I gave a short laugh and then walked away to go explore my new surroundings.

It was a warehouse, not a big one either. It had _definitely_ seen better days, but I passed the Joker's men working on the side, fixing the place up a bit to make it durable for the time we would be living here. For the summer, it was surprisingly cold in the warehouse, having no heater that worked. I noticed icicles hanging from various rafters, like the ones on the model plane in the main hanger, and it made me wonder if a certain criminal had been here _first_. I kept my purple jacket on, rubbing my arms to keep my blood circulation going, but even that didn't keep me warm enough, since I was very sensitive to the cold.

I tried several doors, finding some of the Joker's men working with screwdrivers to make the furnace work. One room was so small that barely six people could stand in there together. However, I noticed a rug in the center of the floor, and suddenly overcome with curiosity; I crouched down and lifted the rug to reveal a trapdoor.

Someone had already broken the lock so I just lifted the door and climbed down the metal ladder into the dark. I saw a few dim lights on that were spread out by an unnecessary distance and had to use my shadow vision. It seemed like a factory hidden underneath the warehouse; the place was filled with pipes and supporting poles. It reminded me too much of Ace Chemicals Factory, and it urged unwanted anger against the Joker.

Growling with irritation, I realized that the Joker could get any type of reaction or emotion he wanted out of me, like he had control over me and my thoughts. Too many times I've already trusted him with my past, first about me, next about love, and then about my best friend. What was next? What I thought about _him_? Boy, if I gave my personal opinion about the Joker to him, no doubt I'd get an _interesting_ reaction from him, which would only result in my knowing his real name and, to put it in the simplest words, my death.

Off to the side, I heard someone curse quietly, and irritably as the sound of metal clanging to the floor echoed through the empty "basement". Ducking under a pipe, I spotted the guy in a corner, picking up a dropped wrench that he seemed to be using on what looked like a beaten up furnace.

He struggled with the furnace for a few moments before realizing that I was standing mere feet from him. His face was hidden by a small pipe, but I sensed that I knew who he was. I must have scared him because his dark eyes widened to the point that it looked like he had seen a ghost…or a Shadow.

"Shadow?" A beam of light flashed across my vision, and I gasped in agony as I tightly shut my eyes, covering them with my wrist. "Sorry, didn't mean to _blind_ you."

"Bleak, you're a jerk," I said, rubbing my eyes as they returned to normal.

"I said I was _sorry_." Dean grinned at me as he came to my side, lowering the flashlight he held. "What are you doing down here?" he asked. "Causing trouble?"

"As if," I grunted, glaring at him.

He seemed to notice the guy with the furnace who was watching us. Without my shadow vision, his face was completely hidden from me even as he moved to get a better look at us. "Who's that?" Dean asked. "You doing the furnace?"

The guy nodded and held up the wrench for a moment.

"Having any luck?" The guy shook his head. "Didn't _think_ so. We'll be cold tonight." Dean took my hand and led me back toward the ladder. "C'mon, let's go back up. Here, you might need a light." He tossed the flashlight over to the guy by the furnace, who caught it and in the process of catching it, shut it off. Dean only shrugged and started to climb the ladder, me following him.

"Why's it so cold?" I asked.

Dean offered me his hand, and I took it, climbing out of the trapdoor. "Boss didn't tell you?" he asked, "The Abominable Snowman used to hideout here."

"Mr. Freeze?"

"I _believe_ that's what he calls himself."

* * *

Hunter was on the verge of having a panic attack. He couldn't hold the wrench, or the screwdriver to fix the furnace now, even though the woman was gone. His hands were shaking badly, and not just from the coldness.

He couldn't find Peter. He had looked _everywhere_ back at the apartment, and now he was convinced that Peter was lost. Hunter _needed_ him.

When she had found him struggling with the furnace, he had thought he was a goner, that she'd find out and reveal his identity to the Boss. For once, Hunter was grateful for having Bleak around. If it wasn't for Bleak to take that woman away, Shadow would have discovered the truth about Hunter, something he _couldn't_ let happen.

Hunter tried again to pick up the screwdriver, ignoring the flashlight Bleak had given him, but he was shaking too much. Finally, he gave up and grabbed wrench, screwdriver, and flashlight, climbing the ladder out of the basement, leaving the broken furnace behind.

The evil power Shadow had over the Boss was _incredible_, but it frightened Hunter, as much as it angered him. _No one_ should have that power over the Boss. The Boss was his own man, not someone to be controlled. _He_ was in control, the Clown Prince of Crime! No one stopped the Boss from doing what he wanted to do, and Hunter liked it that way.

He found the room he had claimed when the Boss's men had first come here while the Boss was out with Shadow, doing some business. It made Hunter _sick_ to know that the Boss was taking that rotten woman with him, rather than someone who was more loyal, who would watch his back, and his front for him so he could go on not caring about his own safety. That was Hunter's job, keeping the Boss safe, no matter _where_ he was.

Hunter tried the doorknob, making sure it was still locked before he reached into his pocket, pulling out a ring of keys. He stared at the keys, realizing that he didn't remember which one it was. Peter would know, but…Peter wasn't _here_.

Hunter hit his head against the door, slamming his fist against it. His shaking increased, becoming more violent. He gasped, having trouble breathing as it accelerated. Desperate, he grabbed the doorknob and shook it, in a vain attempt to open the locked door.

"No…" he whined, quietly, "Peter…"

"Locked out, hm?" Hunter jumped, spinning around and collapsing back into the door, his eyes wide.

The purple-clad Boss burst into a fit of laughter as he continued to saunter toward Hunter. "C'mon, you _have_ the keys! Just-ah _unlock_ the door!" He giggled excitedly, his eyes dancing with life.

Hunter simply stared at him, surprised by how _happy_ the Boss looked. He couldn't remember the last time the Boss was really _this_ happy…well, maybe over two weeks ago when he first returned from Arkham, but this was a _different_ happy. "What's _wrong_ with you?" Hunter breathed.

The Boss's happy expression suddenly vanished, replaced by a dark look. He lowered his head, staring at him from under his white brow, a look that always made Hunter tremble for fear of what the Boss might decide to go.

Before Hunter could react, he found himself covering his ear where the Boss had cuffed him, hard, and his keys were in the Boss's hand.

"What's wrong with _you_?" the Boss retorted. "Couldn't fix the _furnace_?"

"No," Hunter moaned, rubbing his sore ear. The Boss cuffed him again, on the other ear, and then held out his ring of keys. Without thinking, Hunter reached for them, mindlessly leaving his other ear vulnerable and thus receiving another painful hit. "Boss, that hurts."

"Oh yeah?" The Boss giggled, quietly. "Painful, huh?"

"Uh-huh," Hunter replied. The Boss smirked and then grabbed him by the throat, shoving him back against the door. Hunter's hands tried to pry the Boss's grip loose, but the Boss wasn't having it.

"You know _nothing_ about-ah _real_ pain," the Boss growled, his voice darker and deeper than usual. Even his eyes had turned pure black as they narrowed with his anger. Hunter gasped as the Boss's hand slowly tightened around his throat. "Physical isn't the _only_ type of pain there is."

The Boss released Hunter suddenly, and Hunter collapsed on the ground, hand gripping his throat as he coughed, choking. A split second later, the Boss leaped on him, beating him down to the ground. Hunter cried out, choking on the sounds, as he felt the hits.

It lasted half a minute. The Boss finished with a hard kick to Hunter's chest, knocking the wind right out of him, before the purple-clad clown simply walked around Hunter like he wasn't even there.

Hunter gasped, trying to breathe as his eyes watched the Boss disappear around a corner.

* * *

I jumped when a pair of arms wrapped around me from behind, and I would've screamed if a gloved hand hadn't quickly covered my mouth.

"Sh-sh-sh, it's only _me_, _Sha_-dow." I exhaled, relaxing a bit, and the Joker chuckled by my ear. "Why so up-_tight_?" he asked. "Did you get _lost_-ah?"

"Almost," I replied weakly, still trying to calm the rapid beating of my heart. I just wasn't recovering _fast_ enough from the fright the Joker gave me. "I think you just scared twenty years away from me."

The Joker giggled. "At _least_." He pressed his head against mine, tightening his arms around me. "Which reminds me," he said, "How old are you?"

"Naughty, naughty," I said. "What manners? Surely your mother's taught you that it's not polite to ask somebody's age, in particular _women_."

"I didn't think you were _old_ enough to be _concerned_ about your age," the Joker snickered. "C'mon, I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours."

"Forty-seven," I said.

"Hm, you look _good_ for forty-seven." The Joker dropped an arm behind me, and before I could yell at him for possibly doing something I didn't _want_ him to be doing, he swept me up into his arms, causing me to gasp with surprise. "You mustn't have to worry ah-bout _weight_ either." I gave him a look, and he laughed before dropping my legs. With my arms around his neck, I caught myself before I fell, and he grinned at me, his eyes dancing with merriment.

Which made me worried because when was the last time I had seen the Joker's eyes dance with such life…well, never, but that still made me worried. I didn't know what he was like when he was _this_ happy. Something was up, and I felt like it had something to do with me.

The Joker turned his head to the side, covering his mouth as he suppressed a heavy yawn. "Ya know, Shadow. It's rather _late_." He grinned at me, and I pulled out from his arm, glaring. "Fine, if you wanna stay up, that's _fine_," he said, shrugging casually before he turned away. "You can try to sleep in this cold…"

I realized that I was shivering so much that it hurt, but I inhaled sharply, forcing myself to stop despite being cold. "I want my own room," I said, the harshness diminished by the chattering of my teeth.

"What was that?" the Joker asked, turning back. "Did I hear you say that you wanted _my_ room? Well…" He rubbed the back of his head, looking like a kid trying to make a decision. "I _like_ my room, but if you want it…" He looked at me and smirked. "If you want it _that bad_, I'm willing to _share_!" he exclaimed.

Before I could protest, the Joker picked me up again and took off running down the hallway. All I could do was wrap my arms around his neck and hope that he didn't drop me or decide to throw me out a window.

The Joker kicked open a door, which I suppose led to _his_ room, and from first glance, I was surprised that no one had set up anything, besides throw a mattress on the ground and toss the Joker's purple and black blankets and pillows on it.

Guess who was also _tossed_ onto the mattress…if you guessed me, that's correct.

The Joker actually tossed me up in the air a bit over the mattress, and I cried out in fright, even as I landed on the mattress and bounced a bit. I didn't have enough time to recover from _that_ ordeal before the Joker threw himself onto the mattress next to me, nearly landing on top of me.

"Comfortable," he remarked, lying on his back with his hands behind his head.

"Sure, comfortable," I murmured, kicking off my Skechers. The Joker snickered as he put an arm over me, but I moved out of his reach, covering myself completely with a blanket so that _if_ he tried anything, he'd have to fight me. Rather than pursue the matter, he turned away from me, and within seconds, his breathing had deepened.

_Lucky_, I thought irritably. If only I could fall asleep that quickly…but it was simply too _cold_ for me. There wasn't even time for the sun to rise, but I was exhausted, the last of my energy gone, my shivering sucking any reserves.

I must have laid there for over an hour, shivering, too tired to even fall asleep. Even with my jacket on still, I was cold.

It was either freeze to death or cuddle…and despite how much I didn't want to be touching the Joker right now, I turned over and pressed myself into his back. There seemed to be a sudden change in temperature, but not by much. I felt my eyelids droop, which gave me a little comfort, but then, the Joker moved away from me.

I almost whimpered, but then, I was enveloped in warmth as the Joker turned around and pulled me into his chest. His body heat radiated off of him like a rushing wave in the ocean, crashing against me and almost seeping into my cold form.

It made me wonder, as I closed my eyes and slowly drifted away, lured to sleep by the Joker's steady breathing, what was it that made a male warmer than a female during the night?

I could think of the harsher punch line. _Women are cold-hearted_.

* * *

**Lordlink13: Another chapter uploaded. Makes me wonder how I'm gonna end this story…ahem, I know the basic to it, but I sorta go on from there. So Joker's thrown his question at Shadow, and she responded. Proof they are **_**definitely**_** getting closer. I want them to be best friends. *hugs self***

**Joker: Then **_**write**_** it that way!**

**Lordlink13: *screams and collapses on the ground***

**Shadow: *entering the room* There you go. You feel **_**happier**_** now that you've screamed the author to death. *Joker glares* Since Doc's unconscious, leave a review before you go.**


	22. Sensitivity

**Lordlink13: A warning beforehand, there _is_ a swear in this chapter. I usually try to avoid them, but this time, I couldn't find any other way to express the Joker's emotions - yeah, spoiler as to who's POV we go into for a bit. Move along...**

**

* * *

**From the moment I woke up before the sun set, I knew today was going to be different from any other.

For one thing, I was awake in time to be aware of the Joker getting out of bed and going into the bathroom. It took me a moment to realize that we weren't in the apartment anymore. Instead, we were in Mr. Freeze's old hideout – which meant that it was _still cold_!

But I didn't feel cold. The Joker's body heat still lingered on his side, so I shifted over, resting my head on his pillow and letting out a satisfied sigh. I heard the sound of rushing water as the Joker turned on the faucet, and for a moment, he let it run.

Loud gurgling came from the bathroom, and I sat up suddenly, eyes widened in terror before realizing that the Joker had just stuck his face under the running water. He rubbed his face with a hand, washing off the black, white, and red warpaint. Paint gone, he tossed his head back, grabbing a towel and drying his face. Casually, he threw the towel aside and stood looking at his reflection in the mirror.

I narrowed my eyes, trying to see the side of his face better. It was natural curisioty that had me wanting to know what the Joker looked like _under_ the warpaint. I was simply too far away to take in any important details, but I did notice that the one scar I could see wasn't as visible without the warpaint.

The Joker finished making faces at himself, and took out several tubes out of a drawer, roughly and quickly reapplying his facepaint. My shoulders drooped as I realized that I had missed my chance at seeing all of who the Joker was underneath his makeup.

I lied back down as the Joker traced lipstick over his scars, bringing out the infamous Glasgow smile. He cleared his throat, straightened his vest, and walked out of the room, taking care to close the door quietly behind him.

That was at seven forty-seven in the evening.

The Joker returned, sneaking up on me. I gave a startled cry as his weight abruptly hit the bed behind me. I almost crumpled the picture of my best friend that I had been staring at for who knows how long.

"C'mon, Shadow!" the Joker exclaimed. "It's _al_-most eleven, and you're _still_ in bed!" He threw himself over me, and I grunted under his sudden weight. "Whatcha doing?" he asked.

"Brooding," I replied, trying to shift under him so my rips weren't being crushed.

"Ah-bout _what_?" he asked, excitedly.

I turned my head with difficulty to watch his reaction. "About you."

The Joker's eyes narrowed as he turned his head, watching me out of the corner of his eyes. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and asked, disbelieving, "Really? What's that got to do with your traitor _friend_ here?" He reached for the picture, but I pressed it against me so he couldn't get it. "I have this im-_press _-ion that his name starts with a 'J'."

"Just because yours does?" I demanded, narrowing my eyes in irritation.

"I'll call him 'Jim'," the Joker said. "What do _I_ have to do with _Jim_, here?"

I turned my head away from his, staring at the wall. "You remind me of him sometimes…but that isn't the reason why I was thinking about you. I just…_happened_ to be holding his picture while I was thinking about you."

"Why would you be _thinking_ about me?" the Joker asked. "No one _thinks_ about me. I'm just _there_."

"Because you're unique," I explained. "I've never met a man even _close_ to being you."

"It's a trait-ah, _believe_ me." He started to lift his weight from me, but I quickly grabbed his jacket with my free hand. The Joker stopped, giving me a sidelook, like he was trying to read my expression. "Don't believe me?" he asked, his tone suspicious.

"Not one bit," I told him. "It could be my imagination, but I'm _quite_ convinced it isn't. I doubt anyone else would even _consider_ the theory I've formed about you."

He began to _look_ suspicious, almost angry, but he licked his lips and said, "Try me."

I took a deep breath, knowing that if the Joker didn't like what I told him, I'd be dead. I've been very open with him thus far, and now, I was going to give him my personal opinion of him, a view that's changed many times throughout the time I've been with him. It was a risk I could take at this point, seeing no other way to confront him.

"You've told me better that you don't _plan_ things," I began, "Yet I have the impression that you _do_ plan things here and there, maybe you lie down the basics and improvise from there to flow with the situation. And I've noticed that you may claim insanity to avoid going to Blackgate Prison, so that you could go to Arkham and break out whenever you want. The doctors in Arkham might be convinced of your insanity plea, but _I'm_ not."

The Joker's eyes narrowed. "Your _point_?" he growled.

"I see you as a sane man who willfully causes anguish and clearly enjoys it. You say you're an agent of chaos, and you _clearly_ are since wherever you go, _chaos_ is the result. Doctors in Arkham might say that, if any of them found this out, they'd agree with the summation that you should be retried as mentally competent, declared sane, sent to state prison, and executed."

As I said this, the Joker's face had darkened, his brown eyes turning black with rage. His hands on either side of me had tightened, grabbing handfuls of the blankets around me. He was shaking with his anger that only grew as the seconds ticked by, but I had to finish, to tell him my personal opinion.

"But I don't think you _should_ be executed, even though I believe you're sane." His expression relaxed slightly, anger melting into cautious curiosity. I swallowed quietly, placing my hand against his chest that heaved with his harsh breathing. "I know the scar stories, even if I only believe one truthfully." His eyes narrowed. "But whatever happened to you made you this way, who you are now and not you've been." I looked away before meeting his darkened eyes. "I consider you a friend, Joker, and the reason is because you understand me better than anyone has, _better_ than 'Jim'."

He released the blankets with one hand and snaked it behind my neck, gripping me. The Joker leaned in, bringing his face an inch from mine, my vision filled with his expression. "Shadow, Shadow, Shadow," he said, his tone disapproving, "You must be in-_sane_ to think of me as a friend."

"Maybe I am," I said, "But that doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Does it, she asks." The Joker pushed himself up, a menacing chuckle escaping his lips. "Of _course_ it matters. This whole _city's_ upside down. If _you're_ insane, then who _isn't_?" He pounded the bed beside me with his fist in anger. "If you wanted to form a _theory_ on me, Shadow, you should've applied for a job in _Arkham_!"

He jumped off me and the bed entirely. "On second thought," he said, looking at me over his shoulder. "You shouldn't have come to Gotham in the _first_ place."

"Joker, please!" I protested, but he left the room, slamming the door behind him.

What had I done wrong? Had I worded what I wanted to tell him incorrectly? I had angered him, lit the fire underneath him. I had _hurt_ him. Even under the cover of his anger, I read the injury I had caused him. I had pushed a hidden button with my statement of believing he was sane and that I thought he was a friend. What was it about friends that hurt him so much?

I sat up and hugged my knees, shaking with the incoming of tears. The Joker had told me little of his own best friend, no, he never said it was a best friend, just _a_ friend, who killed himself months after they had met. What kind of damage does that do to a person? Did the Joker think it was his fault that his friend had killed himself?

Past wounds hurt. I would know, having lost my best friend, my family, and my life. The Joker was always telling me to face the past and then forget it, but that's not like me. I can't forget, a reason why I held grudges so tightly, the rare ones that I held.

Maybe the Joker was the same way. Whenever I hinted at his dead girlfriend, he stiffened or became angry. Now that I was actually _seeing_ the man who betrayed me, I was losing it to hidden rage, my grudge towards him.

Broken people, indeed. If I didn't believed in coincidence, I would have thought things occurred for a reason. Meeting the Joker on my first night in Gotham would certainly be more than just coincidence, just my bad luck.

Reluctance overwhelms you when you've done something that you deeply regret, I've noticed. I couldn't push aside that regret as I dragged myself out of bed, literally dropping on the floor in a series of pushups, some exercise that would get the blood flowing and clear my head.

I didn't leave the bedroom until midnight, almost sneaking as I closed the door behind me quietly. I hadn't even gone far before I heard someone calling my name. I tried to ignore them, but whoever it was caught up with me, grabbing my arm and pulling me to a stop.

"Hey, what's wrong, Shadow?"

I shook him off. "Nothing, Bleak," I said quietly.

"Something's _definitely_ wrong," Dean pressed. "And I'm guessing it had to do with you and the Joker, by the way he stormed away."

I turned my head, wrapping my arms around me. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I understand that, but…" Dean chewed on his lower lip. "You know, I'm headed down for the furnace to see if I can fix it. How about you come with me?"

"No, I'm fine…"

"Where else are you gonna go, Shadow? It's midnight. Unless you want to make friends with the Bat, I'd suggest just limiting the people you're around right now." He took my arm again, holding it gently, and I looked at him, seeing his concern. "Besides, I need someone to hold the flashlight."

I stared at him for a few moments before nodding. "All right, I'll go with you," I said, without bothering to hide my non-existent enthusiasm. Dean didn't seem to mind as he headed off toward the small room with the trapdoor. I allowed him to lead me, taking me down into the basement.

I watched him as he knelt before the broken furnace, setting down a toolbox he had brought with him. He rummaged through the tools, picking out what he needed before taking out the flashlight from his pocket, sliding it over to me. I turned it on and flashed it at the furnace, waiting until he had finished a good examination.

"You know, I've been thinking," I began.

"About what?" he asked, without looking at me.

"You remember when we met in the park when the…boss sent me out to deal with Tyler Samson?"

Dean's shoulders stiffened. "Yeah," he said, with difficulty. "You sure did _deal_ with him."

I hugged my knees, pulling them close into my chest, feeling guilt wash over me. "I didn't really want to do that to him…"

"You did it while you sent me away, didn't you?" he asked, his voice cold.

"Dean, I thought you were trying to make things better for me right now."

His shoulders slumped. "Sorry, I guess I just never expected something like that from you. Even when you act all bad criminal for the Joker, I sense that that's only half of you, like you're really a quiet person."

"I used to be," I whispered. "But you remember when I told you about a boy I knew in middle school."

"Dean Ledger, I think you said his name was."

"Yeah…" I looked over to see him staring at me, expectantly. "I really do wonder if you're him." I lowered my eyes, staring at the flashlight in my hands. "I guess my memory's starting to kick in from the past. You remind me of him. You're funny and open to others' feelings." I smiled. "At least _mine_."

Dean grinned. "Especially if I went over to talk to you during lunch."

"Yeah…I had a best friend who did the same thing, but that was after the Ledger boy – that's what I called you – bothered me."

"You know, the name does sound familiar. Vaguely, though, like I had heard of the name before but never knew the person." Dean stopped what he was doing and half-turned toward me. "But I remember you sitting alone, reading a book all the time. I can just _picture_ you."

I blinked. "You haven't seen me reading on my day-off?"

Dean shook his head. "I can never find you."

"The boss doesn't have any trouble."

"Well, I believe he is what he _claims_ he is. He has the nose of one of the Rottweilers."

I smiled and then said, "Dean, I have an idea."

"For what?" he asked, curiously.

"Stay there," I told him as I shifted over to him. "Close your eyes and don't move. I want you to picture me reading a book alone."

"Why?"

"Don't ask questions. I'll explain afterwards. And _do_ remember to breathe."

Dean grinned, but he closed his eyes, waiting.

"Are you picturing it?" I asked.

"Almost living it," he told me. I hesitated and then reached up and placed my hands on his temples. I didn't feel a pull, like I did for the Joker, but I sensed something different. Taking a steadying breath, I closed my eyes.

* * *

The wooden chair flew across the room, and smashed into wall, shattering into rotten bits. His chest heaving, his fist collided with the wall, causing it to cave in around his hand. He ripped it out of the hole and paced the room, his shoulders hunched. Passing a table, he paused to flip it over violently out of his way before returning to his restless pace, kicking aside another chair.

The Joker passed the door but then suddenly turned and kicked it, causing it to splinter, only to turn away from it, like he didn't care about the result.

_Why?_ he thought. _Why do I keep this hidden? I don't…care about anyone else, just…just…_ He spun and punched the wall, but not as hard as the first time. The Joker placed both palms flat on the wall, and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to it.

_This…wasn't how I thought…_damn_._ The Joker roughly pushed off the wall and continued around the room, but he stopped after a few steps. _I shouldn't be keeping this from…from _her_._

With a surge of anger, he kicked a third chair, breaking it and sending the pieces in different directions. A splinter came up and hit him in the face, scraping his cheek, just over his scar. It started to bleed, but not enough to worry about. Not like the Joker would've cared if it was a little or a lot.

He stood there for several moments, his breathing heavy. He shut his eyes tightly as he clenched his fists. _I need to tell her…but when…and _how_?_ He turned toward the door, opened it – breaking it in the process – and stormed out, leaving the door hanging by one of its hinges.

* * *

_Being inside Dean's memory was much different from the Joker's. Instead of seeing first person, I was watching the younger Dean from afar, and even as I looked at him, I recognized him as the boy named Dean Ledger. The black hair, the brown eyes…yup, it was him._

_I recognized the lunchroom, the black and white tiles on the floor, the long tables, the colored doors where people retrieved their food. I appeared to be sitting two seats away from Dean, and I could see him looking across the cafeteria. When I turned my head, I blinked, seeing myself, at age eleven, sitting alone and reading a book that looked like an English assignment. Younger Sara had a second book on the table to read after she finished the English one._

_I smirked, liking how I knew that already._

"_Hey, Dean, what are you staring at?" I turned my head to see Dean whip his back to some kid sitting near him. I recognized the kid as Kim, another troublemaker in the school._

"_What?" Dean asked, looking surprised, like Kim had broken him out of his thoughts._

"_I said, hey, what are you staring at?" Kim repeated._

"_I wasn't staring; I was looking."_

"_You know her?" I flinched as I looked at the boy sitting directly across from Dean. What a coincidence! It was my best friend J-…'Jim'. I'd recognize his husky voice anywhere._

"_She's in my English class," Dean told him._

_A guy – a boy named Ben – whistled loudly. "Dean's gotta crush on shy girls."_

_Dean glared at him, but at the same time, so did my best friend, giving Ben a hard stare that made Ben shrink with uneasiness._

"_I _doubt_ that she's shy," 'Jim' said, still staring at Ben. Even as he watched the kid squirm under his gaze, a smile stretched over his lips. That was _definitely_ my best friend. He always did that to anyone who tried to mess with me, and apparently he did it for others too._

"_Go talk to her and see if you can make her put the book down," 'Jim' dared Dean, finally turning his gaze back. Dean gave him the slightest of pouts, trying to get out of the dare, but my best friend wasn't having it. He leaned over the table, looking Dean directly in the eyes, his tongue sliding out but just wetting his lips the tiniest bit._

_It reminded me of the Joker._

"_Go, Dean," my best friend said, "I _dare_ you." He had made it an official dare, ordering Dean to do it._

_Instantly obeying, Dean stood up and walked over to where my younger self was sitting. I too got up and followed him, waiting to watch the situation, even though I remember it from this spot._

_However, Dean stopped and looked back. I did too, to see my best friend – out of all their friends – giving Dean an encouraging nod, motioning with his hand to go on. Dean smiled slightly and nodded back before taking the last steps towards Sara._

_Even as I followed him, the scene started to dissolve, and I looked around, confused. Was this the end of his memory?_

_But even as this scene disappeared, another started to appear._

_Dean balanced on the railing of a bridge that stretched across a rushing river. He had his arms out to keep that balance, but there was also a strong wind that nearly knocked him over the edge several times. Dean's eyes were wet, tearing rolling down his cheeks as he watched the water below._

_I stood nearby, only able to watch him as he stood there. My chest heaved as I realized he was starting to lean away from the bridge._

"_Dean, stop!" Dean almost fell, barely catching his balance. He looked over his shoulder to find someone standing mere feet away. For some reason, the face was blurry, and the voice was disoriented so I couldn't tell who it was. "Dean, what are you doing? Get down from there!"_

"_No, not this time," Dean said. "I'm sorry, but this is it."_

"_Please, don't, Dean," the stranger begged. "I don't want to lose you. Listen, we can leave this place. We don't have to stay here."_

"_There's nothing you can do to change things, Bro. I've made my decision."_

"_If it's about Dad…"_

"_It's not about Dad. It's about me." Dean ran a hand through his hair as he turned to face the stranger. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to do it alone." A small genuine smile crossed his face. "See ya later, Bro."_

A burst of pain exploded in my head, and I broke out of Dean's memory with a whimper, gripping my head tightly.

"Whoa, what happened?" Dean said, wondrously. "I _saw_ you! And heard voices and everything."

"That's your memory," I told him, clenching my teeth against the agony.

"I _remember_!" he exclaimed. "But…what was the last part?"

"Another memory-." I gasped, feeling the pain flow from my head and down, reaching my neck and into my shoulders. "Ow…" I collapsed on the ground, tears springing from my eyes. It hurt, whatever I had done. I started convulsing, the agony becoming too great.

"Shadow? Shadow, what's wrong?" Dean's voice rose with concern and fear. He tried holding me down, as my body jerked. I couldn't focus through the pain. My shadow state activated in an attempt to block out the agony, but it only made it worse. The room tipped and swerved around me. The pain pulsed through me, making my stomach lurch sickeningly. I could distinctly hear Dean talking to me, trying to calm me, but I had no control. My body arched violently, and when my back hit the ground, the agony was so great that it overwhelmed me, dropping me harshly into unconsciousness.

Gradually, I came back into consciousness, my body aching from my seizure. Vaguely, I was aware of the cushions underneath me and the tilt of my head, bringing me to the conclusion that I was lying on a couch. I opened my eyes and moved slowly as I pushed myself into a sitting position.

Someone gasped, and I saw Dean's face as he dragged a chair over to me. "Hey," he said, grinning slightly.

"Hi," I said, wearily.

"How'd you feel?"

I rubbed my head where a dull headache rested. "Okay, I guess."

"Did you know that was gonna happen?"

"No."

Dean leaned back in his chair. "Well, I appreciate you trying to help me with my memories, but I don't want you doing it again, if _that's_ how you're going to react."

I nodded. "I understand. How long was I out?"

"Two hours. It's been hard. I've had to keep moving you so that the Joker didn't find you. Who knows what he would've done if he saw your condition?"

I turned to prop my back against the couch. "Thanks, Dean," I said, smiling slightly.

"No problem," he said, returning a wider grin.

Abruptly, the door opened, and Dean's head jerked. Shaun stood in the doorway, panting heavily. "Boss wants everyone in the Recreation Room," he said, panting.

"Okay," Dean said, standing up. "You stay here, Shadow."

"Shadow included." Shaun swallowed and added, "He's pretty upset. He's already beaten Dave into the ground. _Literally_."

Dean gave me a worried look. "Maybe you shouldn't go."

"No, if I don't go, he'll only get angrier," I said. I held out a hand, and Dean took it, pulling me to my feet. "Who knows? He might just be angry because he can't find me."

I couldn't have been any more _right_. The moment I walked into the Recreation Room, the Joker turned away from poor Cory who was cowering into a corner and sauntered toward me swiftly.

"Where. _Have_. You. Been?" he demanded, his eyes narrowed.

"Wandering," I replied.

He kept walking toward me, and I started to backstep until I was against the door. The Joker slammed one hand beside my head, following it by the other, the force of his hands causing the door to tremble on its hinges. His face loomed into mine, blocking my vision from everything but him.

By the way he was shaking, I thought he was angry enough to hurt me or something. His tongue flickered out over his lips several times rapidly, like a snake; his eyes boring into mine, like he was breaking into my soul. He seemed to continue moving closer, and I pressed myself against the door, trying to keep some space between the two of us.

The Joker's eyes weren't dark though, and when he spoke again, his voice was quiet, almost a whisper as he asked, "Wanna go for a drive?"

The abrupt change in mood took me off guard. I took a few seconds to recover enough to say, "Um, sure…"

* * *

**Lordlink13: Good chapter, what else can I say? A little hint of future possibilities. Ahem…so please read and review and then go chill for a week, reading over Fanfiction or watching a movie or eating or sleeping or **_**breathing**_**. Breathing's always nice to do once in awhile. Oh, and **Randomdamsel**, I'm curious as to what your prediction is. Are you going to hang the information over my head to torment me or are you going to be nice and PM me with it? *wide-eyed puppy look* And thanks everyone for the reviews, please keep them up. And if anyone knows what happened to **Sinario**, let me know. I'm worried. *throws suspicious look at the Joker*****  
**


	23. Who Over Who?

Even though I was nervous, I went with the Joker, climbing in next to him in my Toyota. He still had the keys from yesterday so I let him drive, watching him cautiously in my peripheral vision. His easy-mannered mood could change at any moment, and I had my hand resting close to the door handle, in case I needed to make a quick escape.

After a few minutes, the Joker chuckled. "No need to be so up-_tight_, Shadow," he said, casually. "It's not like I'm gonna _bite_ your head off."

"Right, and instead you'll _rip_ my head off."

The Joker burst with laughter, clearly amused by my caution. He reached over and took my hand, gripping it tightly before I could pull it away. "I won't hurt you unless you give me reason to, I promise." He turned his head, grinning at me, but I simply stared back.

His attention returned to the road, and he took a smooth turn, taking his time. The pavement disappeared, and the car vibrated. I looked out the window, realizing that we were driving on a wooden pier.

We neared the end, and the car slowed to a stop smoothly. The Joker killed the engine and settled back into his seat, turning his head to watch me.

I narrowed my eyes. "What?" I demanded.

"Who's temper is worse?" the Joker asked in reply, smirking as he opened his door. He stepped out and inhaled deeply before bending over, looking in at me. "Come out when you want," he said, "No need to hurry." He giggled and slammed the door shut.

I watched him out the window as he bounded around to the front of the car. The Joker smirked at me through the window – like he knew something I didn't – before bouncing onto the hood. I jerked forward, worried he had hurt my car, but he turned around and sat down, lying back against the glass.

I only managed three minutes before boredom drove me out of the car. As I slammed shut the door, the Clown Prince of Crime remarked, "You lasted longer than I thought you would."

I came around and noticed he had his waistcoat watch out. I crossed my arms and asked, "How long?"

"Two and a half minutes. You lasted forty seconds longer." He smirked at me, despite my deep frown, and patted the space beside him. I climbed up and settled back, placing my hands on my lap.

After a few moments of staring as the sky, I turned my head to see the Joker watching me. Even though I didn't like his stare, I kept my expression the same as I asked, "You do this often?'

"No," he replied, looking away reluctantly. "Just thought it was a good idea…" I watched him as his eyes darted about while he played with his mouth. He couldn't stop moving. He shifted his position the slightest bit every few seconds. He placed one hand behind his head, then the other. His tongue flickered over his scarred lips. His foot twitched now and then. He knew I was watching him so he avoiding meeting my gaze.

"What's bothering you?" I asked.

The Joker turned his head away from me. "Nothing's bothering me."

I smiled as I sat up, propping myself on my hands. "Liar," I said, "Like you, I know how to detect lies, and until now, you were hard to read."

"Because I never _lied_ to you." My eyes widened. "Until now…" He slid forward until he sat on the edge of the hood, his back to me. "I'm capable of lying, but honestly, I don't do it often."

I sighed quietly as I pushed myself forward to sit beside him. "So what's on your mind?"

"Nothing," he replied, turning away.

Before I thought of what I was doing, I wrapped my arms around his neck from behind. I buried my face in his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He reached a hand back over his shoulder, stroking my hair awkwardly.

"If you never lied until now…" I murmured into his shoulder.

"Can't understand you," he told me.

I lifted my head. "Are your scar stories true?"

"You've _seen_ the second one!"

"But not the first, and I…am reluctant to believe it's true…maybe _some_ of it, but not all."

"You _wanna_ see it?" he demanded, turning so violently that I had to let go and back away. His brown eyes flashed with anger, but for once, I didn't breakdown to my fear.

The Joker watched me with a look of surprise as I slid back over to him, wrapping my arms around him. As I positioned myself behind him, he sighed and said, "I really don't-ah _scare_ you, do I?"

"No, you do," I said, leaning into his back. "I believe that to fight your fears, you have to embrace them."

"_Literally?_" There was amusement in his voice, and I could sense a smile on his face.

"Well, maybe literally for those I _can_ embrace."

The Joker laughed as he grabbed my hands, tearing my hold off him and turning over to push me down on the car hood, straddling me.

"That's ah-_nother_ thing I _like_ about you, Shadow," the Joker said, his tongue sliding over his lower lip as he giggled.

"What?" I asked, hesitantly. The Joker was so close to me, his upper body supported by his muscle-bound forearms, his legs trapping mine, his face looming into mine.

"You're…unpredictable and…" He licked his lips again, eyes darting about like he was searching for the word. "Distracting?" He said it like a question, and I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "I don't know…" he whispered in answer to my expression.

He brought his face closer to mine, our breath mingling as it accelerated, at least for me. My heart banged inside my chest as his hand snaked behind my neck. Our noses almost touched, we were so close. Our eyes met, brown on blue, and we came closed, our lips almost touching.

But he moved away.

The Joker drew away from me, slowly returning to his position on the edge of the hood, sliding over to be the farthest away from me. He inhaled deeply as I shifted back, leaning against the windshield with my hands clasped behind my head. I focused on returning my breathing to normal, and after a few moments, I heard the sound of cards being shuffled – one of many sounds that I liked.

"Maybe I _stretched_ the truth," the Joker admitted, tilting his head back to look at the sky. "I don't really remember what I told you-."

"Your father was a gambler and a drinker," I supplied.

"He _was_!" he insisted, his tone on the edge of anger.

"I'm not doubting; I just want the truth, particularly when I've been honest with _you_." I wasn't looking at him, but I heard him shift as he half-turned towards me. "Your father used his money on cards and blamed you for not getting a job. He killed your mother, or at least I had that impression."

"No, I've bent the truth when I told you. I couldn't _help_ myself." The Joker sighed, and I lowered my gaze from the sky to watch him. He looked exhausted, slumped over the way he was.

I propped myself on my elbows. "If it's too painful, you don't have to tell me," I said, softly. His hand raised to touch his left scar when I said _painful_. Then, he pulled off his leather glove, reaching back toward me.

Curiosity nagged at me until I reached forward and took his hand. The Joker flinched when our hands touched, and he remained stiff, as if expecting something to happen. Nothing did, and I knew why.

"You have to look at me," I coaxed gently.

The Joker tensed. "Have to?" he asked, in a painful whisper.

"Afraid so."

"Then never mind," he said, taking his hand back.

I couldn't help feeling disappointed at his lack of courage. He must have bent the truth so much that he didn't want to face me.

"I came home late, from studying," the Joker said, quietly. "Both parents were drunk and angry. My mother favored the belt when it was necessary for my punishment. She didn't like staying up _waiting_ for me. She beat me for my lateness while my father watched, laughing at my pain." The Joker shifted uneasily, setting aside the deck of cards he was holding.

"Reason isn't something my mother understood, or my _step_-mother, for that matter. My real mother couldn't stand my father, and tried to gain legal custody of me. She lost and simply vanished. So my dad remained, giving me the woman who drank with him and beat his son for his own _amusement_," he growled angrily. Then, the Joker looked at me, and he spoke in a soft tone, his expression changing, "At least your father kept you safe from his men, even if _he_ did the beating.

"Every time I got out of line…or somtimes I was just sitting there doing nothing. If she was in a bad mood, she'd come after me and let _him_ watch."

The Joker leaned back, propping himself on his hands. "There's a limit to how long I could take it. She hit me one too many times. I snapped." He flinched, like he was snapping again with the memory. Scared, I reached out, both physically and with my shadow, and touched his hand. His wild emotions hit me hard, anger being the stronger.

He didn't seem to notice the contact. "I hit her once with everything I had. Before she even hit the floor, my father had me by the throat, knocking me down and slamming my head against the floor." He closed his eyes tightly against the memory, and I felt his reluctance to finish.

"He still have you the scar," I said quietly.

"With a _dull_ kitchen knife," he whispered. I grimaced greatly, remembering how much pain it was for his second scar with a sharp razor. With a dull blade, the agony could only be greater and longer lastly.

Feeling a mere echo of his past pain, I clenched his hand tightly. The Joker jumped, jerking his head around, finally noticing that we were holding hands. He stared wide-eyed for a moment before looking up at me. Through our physical contact, I felt a rush of fresh anger that I could also see in his brown eyes.

I took my hand out of his, and in a flash, he moved, pushing me down on the hood, hovering over me. "Why did it _take_ you so long?" he demanded, his eyes burning. "What brought my past to your attention?"

"You've told different stories to your victims," I said without thinking. I realized too late that he hadn't told me that, Dean had.

He turned his head slightly, playing with his mouth, as if waiting for me to continue. When I didn't, his eyes narrowed, and he grabbed my chin roughly. In a low growl, he asked, "Who told you?"

I opened my mouth but bit my lip before I told him. Dean hadn't meant any trouble, and it was bad enough that whenever the Joker saw us talking, he threw us a disapproving look, like we were being naughty kids. We were friends; I couldn't betray Dean.

"Shadow, _answer_ me," the Joker demanded, his hot breath on my neck.

"The guys," I whispered weakly.

"It was Bleak."

"No, it wasn't," I protested suddenly.

The Joker's mouth curled into the infamous Glasgow smile, and then it vanished as quickly as it had come. His free hand rose abruptly, and I flinched, expecting him to hit me. Instead, he dropped it, slamming it on the car hood beside my head. He loomed into my face, bringing us so close that our noses almost touched. "Protecting him, _aren't_ you?" he growled, his voice low, a dangerous sign.

For all the good it did me, I said, "We're just friends."

"_Just. Friends?_" He grabbed a handful of my hair. "So lying to me is going to pro-_tect_ him? Is he more important than _I_ am? The guy doesn't even know his real _name_!" He tightened his grip on my hair painfully. "Is it _him_ over _me_?"

He was in a very dangerous mood. That was clear to me. One wrong answer and I was dead. A fifty-fifty chance of survival. This could be the moment he told me his real name so he could kill me, and fulfill his promise. He didn't care about Dean, at this point; his attention was focused on me alone. If I answered wrong, that was the end of me.

The Joker hadn't moved as those thoughts went through my head. His tongue slid over his lips quickly, showing his emotion – what it was. His scars might reveal the grin, but his mouth was a tight line. It seemed like there was no way to get him to release the tension that suffocated me.

Well, I thought of _one_ way that didn't involve words…

Despite his grip on my hair, I pulled his hand away from my chin and lifted myself, bringing my lips to his in a kiss.

He jerked back, his shock written on his painted face, his eyes so wide that he really _did_ look like an innocent puppy. The tension vanished with his abrupt release of his fury.

The Joker blinked at me, looking utterly stunned and confused.

I couldn't help but give a soft chuckle. "What? Is the Joker _speechless_? Do you lack the ability to comprehend an answer given through action? Can't figure out my response to your last question?"

The Joker couldn't speak. He tried several times, only to open his mouth and make a choking noise. Finally, he simply pushed himself away from me, jumped off the car, and walked away, halting on the edge of the pier.

I propped myself up on my elbows, feeling guilty. It didn't matter that the Joker had been on the verge of killing me mere seconds ago. I had done something he hadn't expected me to do, and my guess was that it had touched a nerve in him.

Even as the guilt passed, it hit me. As spontaneous as this "drive" had been, there was a reason behind it. The Joker and I had shared pieces of ourselves, and he _wanted_ me to question him about his scar story. This had _nothing_ to do with Dean, unless the Joker really wanted to know the answer to his last question.

_Is it him over me?_

The Joker shifted his weight by the end of the pier, turning his whole body restlessly. I sat up, combing my hair back with my fingers. What was I going to say to him? Apologize for doing that to him? That didn't seem like it would work, but it was worth a try, I decided.

After a few minutes, the Joker turned around and headed back to the Toyota. I prepared myself to give him an apology for my actions by sliding down to lean against the front bumper. The Joker didn't look up until he halted before me. I opened my mouth.

He lunged forward, clapping a hand over my mouth to stop me from speaking. "Be-_sides_ lying, I _dis_-like ah-_pol_-ogizes," he said. He raised his white brown in a silent question of comprehension, and I nodded. Then, he removed his hand and leaned in, his scarred lips gently touching mine.

It lasted a second, and he pulled away again, his eyes shining mysteriously. "Now we're even," he exclaimed. I shook my head, and he gave me a confused look.

I just shrugged.

"We should go," the Joker said, turning away. "Who knows what those boys have been _up_ to."

"Wait." He stopped and half-turned. I picked up his deck of cards and held them out. "Unless you want them flying everywhere…" I trailed off as he turned and sauntered back toward me. He reached for the deck, and a smirk flashed across my face. "Rare moment of your own stupidity," I said.

The Joker looked confused, until I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. He hadn't expected this, but he caught on quickly, wrapping his arms around my waist. I kept a step ahead of him, slipping his cards into his jacket pocket before stepping away, refusing to let him embrace me.

He looked utterly confused and stunned, like the first time, and I laughed.

"In answer to your question, it's you over him, Mistah J," I said, playfully patting his head before I walked around to the passenger's door. The Joker made a strange noise, and I smirked, "C'mon, I'm in the mood to catch some naughty boys. And you don't _count_, clownboy," I added quickly when he straightened. I jerked my head and said, "Get in the car, or _I'm_ driving."

The Joker moved, almost running to the driver's side. As he climbed in, I had the sudden impression to look around. When I did, I caught sight of a skinny black figure hiding between the nearest buildings. Squinting, I watched as the figure jumped onto the wall, latching to it, and then started climbing, vanishing onto the rooftop. Agile, I thought, before stepping into my Toyota.

* * *

"_Don't do this to me, Joker." The whisper was painful, making my throat raw._

_The Joker sauntered toward me from the shadows, halting before me and holding my face with both hands. He held his switchblade, pressing it hard against my cheek. I winced as it bit into my skin, drawing blood. His scarred lips turned into an amused grin as he watched the pain appear on my face._

"_Can't take it?" he asked, giggling softly. "How do you think _I_ feel?"_

"_What?" My eyes widened in surprise._

"_Ohh…you've tormented me for _so_ long. I know you _enjoy_ it." I tried to jerk out of his grasp, but he held on, desperately. "Just keep it up and I'll-."_

_My eyes narrowed as I looked him directly in the eyes. "Why are you _doing_ this?" I demanded, suddenly._

_The Joker looked taken aback at my sudden outburst, his eyes widening in surprise. Before he could recover, I continued._

"_I was tormenting _you_? I think it's been the _other way around_ since the beginning, since you first _kidnapped_ me!" The Joker took a step back, and I straightened, my fear modifying into pure anger. "And you're treating_ like this_? You can't even _begin_ to understand what I've been through without you doing this to me!"_

_The Joker's face changed, his surprise becoming anger of his own. He opened his mouth to speak, but I didn't give him the chance._

"_It doesn't matter who you were in the past! What you were like is _dead_, Joker! You hear me, _DEAD_! My best friend no longer exists because you _killed him_! You _bastard_!" I struck him, hitting his jaw and causing him to stumble to the side. As he turned back to face me, I saw that the Joker's face had become livid, and there was blood dripping from the corner of his mouth._

_I had no chance; he _snapped_._

_The Joker threw himself at me, pressing me hard against the wall, trapping me so that I couldn't move anything. We leered at one another, both shaking with fury. My knuckles hurt from clenching my fists so hard, but I didn't relax, trembling with the little control I had. The Joker leaned his face close to mine. Being so close, I could feel his intense body heat that had risen with his anger._

"_Call me…a bastard…_one_ more time," the Joker growled, rolling his switchblade in his hand._

_I glared with absolute hatred. "_Bas_-tard."_

_The Joker stabbed me, jabbing his switchblade into my gut. I gasped in pain, jerking forward into him, but he pushed me back against the wall with a hand as he stabbed me again and again, mercilessly. My cries were ripped from my throat as the Joker grabbed the back of my throat, his grip turning into a vice._

_A headache emerged from nowhere, throbbing painfully and sending pulsing waves of agony throughout my body. I shrieked as the Joker stabbed me one more time, twisting the blade. An agonizing scream of bloody murder rang in my ears and continued to echo in them even when the scream had already left me._

_I dropped to my knees, one arm jerking on the handcuffs, and I found myself sobbing in pain. Blood spluttered on the floor, and I clenched my stomach, feeling my lifeblood seeping through my fingers._

"_No…" I looked up through blurry eyes, seeing a purple blur standing far away from me. I blinked, clearing the blur enough to see that it was a person standing there._

"_Oh no, what have I done?" It wasn't me; the purple frame was speaking, but I couldn't quite remember what his name was. I saw the purple blur drop down in front of me, and I felt him grope my stomach, checking the wounds. "No, I didn't…please not this…Shadow," he pleaded, his voice breaking._

_I looked up at him, blinking again and clearing my vision to see his white face, his black eyes, and his red mouth. I gave him a little smile and spoke through trembling lips. "I forgive you, Joker…I forgive you."_

"You forgive me?"

At first, I thought I was dreaming, unsure of who was talking to me. I didn't know what the heck was going on. Someone's lips were on mine, but after a few seconds, I realized that the rough feel could only be from _one_ person.

I opened my eyes, seeing only the Joker's face rather close to mine. "Hi," I said, shakily.

"For once, you weren't dreaming of that guy Jason." The Joker smirked, clearly amused as I glared at him. "What was I doing in, ah, in your dreams, _Sha_-dow?"

"Doing what you do best," I growled, "Punching holes in me, with your knife."

The Joker's amused expression darkened. "Killing you? Over what?" he asked, suspiciously.

"I don't _know_," I snapped, angrily shoving him off me. He fell back on the bed, sitting away from me as I propped myself up against the headboard. I ran my hands through my hair, grinding my teeth with irritation.

"Whoa," the Joker said, his eyes wide in the puppy expression. "You're not really _this_ annoyed in the morning."

I gave a dry laugh. "It's not _morning_. Don't make me laugh." The Joker scoffed as he leaned forward. "Back _off_," I growled. "What is _up_ with you being _on_ me?"

The Joker held up his hands defensively. "Maybe now's not a good time for you," he said, calmly, "_But_-ah…" He reached forward and grabbed my wrists, pulling me towards him. Somehow, he managed to roll off the bed with me, landing on his feet and swooping me low, tango-style, and I had to wrap my arms around his neck for support. "Now's _not_-ah _your_ time," he growled, giggling softly.

He dropped me, and I slammed my head on the floor. I groaned with pain as the Joker crouched down beside me. "Can we say 'abusive'?" I snapped.

"We _can_," the Joker said, licking his lips. "But _we_ don't _want_ to." He grabbed my wrists again and yanked me to my feet, pulling me close to him.

As he breathed on my neck, I growled, "Do you have a _thing_ for me or something?"

He chuckled, clearly amused. "No, I _don't_ have a _thing_ for you, _Sha_-dow," he lied before planting a wet kiss on my mouth. He giggled and raced out of the room, disappearing into the hall.

My irritation became anger, and after grabbing my gun from the nightstand, I pursued him. He heard me pounding after him, and he laughed gleefully. He ducked around a corner as I fired at him, and he yelled, "I'm gonna die!" before bursting with thrilled laughter.

I growled with frustration and continued running after him, trying to shot him as he ducked and ran for his life, giggling insanely. We broke out into the main hangar of the warehouse, and the Joker raced down the metal stairs toward the ground floor. I came out onto the catwalk, stopped, took aim, and fired.

The Joker stopped in his tracks as my bullet hit the ground inches from his foot. Nothing happened for several seconds. Then, the Joker burst into a fit of laughter, doubling over with his stalled reaction to my warning shot.

"You're _very_…much like me," he gasped through giggles.

I grunted as I reloaded my gun, heading along the catwalk. "I don't act like a hyperactive four-year-old with bad breath."

The Joker straightened, grinning. "That's a good one," he said. "I'll have to remember it." He turned away, and then stopped, turning back. "Did you just say that I have bad breath?"

"Yeah," I said, rolling my eyes as I came down the stairs. He breathed into his glove and sniffed it, a concentrated look on his face. I shook my head as I walked around him, pulling out breath mints from my pocket and shoving them into his hand.

I leaned casually against the new car, a black van that was replacing our SUV that we had lost because of the Batman. I looked up as the Joker's guys came from the hallway I had just chased the Joker down. Five guys – Dean, Dave, Shaun, Cory, and Peter – were armed, ready for _something_.

"Boys, in the van," the Joker ordered. "Two middle seats, avoid them if you value your life." He popped two breath mints in his mouth and stored the container in his pocket, chewing as he came around to where I stood waiting. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he demanded, his eyes narrowed.

"Why _not_?" I asked in return.

He smirked, amused as he opened the side door, gesturing with his hand for me to go in first. I kept my gaze on him until I had to climb in, and I seated myself, my hard gaze returning to him as he stepped in and closed the door.

"Iceberg Lounge, Peter," the Joker said, "Won't want to be _late_."

"You have an appointment with the Penguin?" I asked, curiously.

"Think back two weeks ago, Shadow," he answered, as he rested his arm over the seat. "It'll come to you."

* * *

**Lordlink13: Two remarks from me. One, Shadow's made the first move on the Joker, well, **_**major**_** move on him. Two, the dream Shadow had is a subtle hint to something later in the story. See if anyone can figure it out. Hope you liked the chapter. I honestly didn't like my first version of the Joker's first scar story, so I decided to slip in a better version with this chapter. Don't forget to review before you go! I appreciate them. They brighten my day…week…yeah! And I'm thinking of trying to respond to your reviews, one-on-one, so if you'd like to talk, I'll be willing. Ya know, suggestions, dislikes, likes, predictions, etc. whatever you want to talk about, story-related obviously, write a review and I'll respond the best I can. And don't feel pressured to reply back, I just like to be more…**_**open-minded**_** to others' opinions and ideas so whatever you want to say, speak your mind. If it's the harsher side of things, I'll be hurt, but I can suck it up so **_**hit me!**_

**And I'm just wondering, does anyone have any good – and _sick_ – ideas for magic tricks that the Joker would perform? Review and let me know. I just can't _think_ of any; I want particular ones that lead to someone getting hurt, but any could do.**


	24. Group Therapy

We parked ways away from our actual location. The Joker didn't want the van to be too close, despite the need to be able to have an escape route. He told Peter to remain with the van, but Peter objected.

The Joker grabbed hi head, placing his switchblade – that always seemed to be in his hand at the right moment – close to Peter's mouth. "Don't _like_ it, Peter?" the Joker asked, cruelly. "Who's the boss here?"

"You, boss," Peter responded quietly, his eyes wide as he watched the Joker.

"When I give you an _or_-der, I _expect_ you to _obey_ it, not _question_ it."

"Sorry, boss."

The Joker shoved Peter away from him with disgust. He turned away, taking a few steps and then stopping, lifting his head to the sky. He remained that way for a minute before turning back and telling us to get back in the car. The Joker took the driver's seat and brought the van much closer to our location.

We piled out again, and the Joker tossed the keys to Cory, telling the quiet man to stay with the car and to keep a sharp eye out for any strange movement.

We walked the rest of the way, and quite quickly, Iceberg Lounge came into view. By this point, I had remembered what the Joker had referred to. Two weeks prior, we had come here so that the Joker could talk to the Penguin about a meeting. Then, the Penguin had seemed very reluctant to tell the Joker, but I guess the Joker was just convincing enough with his violent actions to get it out of him.

The Joker grabbed my hand suddenly, and dragged me over into the shadows beside the nightclub. He shoved me against the wall roughly, placing a hand over my mouth before I could speak. With a jerk of his head, he gave his men a signal to go ahead, and I saw them disappear from my peripheral vision.

When the Joker freed my mouth, I asked quietly, "We're not going in with them?"

"We're going in the _back_ way," the Joker said. I raised an eyebrow. "Remember _last_ time, how I was greeted when I walked in? The Penguin might be fashionable, but I doubt that he's taught his men to be _nice_ to guests." He motioned me to be silent and to follow him.

I obeyed, following him closely as he walked to the back, passing the back door, which confused me until I saw that he was headed for a cellar. He crouched down and patted the cellar doors down, his fingers catching on a secret latch. Jerking it, there was a _click_, and the Joker stepped back as the doors opened on their own.

He headed down into the darkness, and I hesitated, unsure if this was a good idea. However, when the doors started to close, I particularly dived in after him, knowing that I'd regret it if I let them close, locking him in alone.

I couldn't see anything and crashed into the Joker, who couldn't help but giggle softly. I put a hand on his shoulder, closing my eyes and activating my shadow vision before opening them again. Nothing happened; I still couldn't see anything. I sighed and turned off the shadow vision. I guess that complete darkness doesn't work either; I still needed a little light. A mix of light and dark makes shadow, made sense to me.

The Joker moved cautiously in the darkness with me following behind him. He knocked into things a few times, but didn't hit them hard enough to make much noise. My heart pounded in my chest, until I heard the Joker heave a sigh. He jerked something, and there was another _click_ that produced a hissing sound.

A pair of doors opened in front of us, producing sharp rays of light. The Joker and I narrowed our eyes against the harsh light before stepping into it, where the doors closed behind us. From what I could tell, we were in an enlarged dumbwaiter that automatically brought us up a floor.

The doors didn't open, but I noticed an open button on the side. I reached for it, but the Joker suddenly snapped his hand down on my wrist, stopping me. He pushed me against the wall, placing his hands on either side of my face. "I have a few _rules_ I want you to go by for this," he said quietly, seriously. "I want you to _behave_ yourself. Don't speak unless spoken to. Don't do anything _stupid_. We want to make a fine impression on our fellow criminals."

"_We_ do?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I'm not the _only_ one who likes pushing buttons," he warned me. "Be nice, and keep your remarks to yourself."

My mouth twitched with amusement. "You're not serious, are you?" I asked, catching on.

He patted my cheek, none too gently. "That's my girl," he complimented, "Sharp as ever."

"Any of those rules _real_?"

"Use your common sense." He grinned and then planted a quick kiss on my cheek. Reacting on an impulse, I raised my hand, but he caught it, giggling softly. "Old habits die hard," he teased me. "Surely by now, we've over the slapping part."

"Sorry," I mumbled, embarrassed.

"I forgive you." He kissed me on the other cheek and then took a step back, gesturing toward the button. "_Act_-ually, I've decided that you'll go in first."

"Scared I might backstab you?" I asked, my mouth twitching.

The Joker shrugged, carelessly. "I'm a _gentleman_ at heart. Ladies first." He gestured again, and I smirked, pushing the button and opening the doors. They opened into a dimly lit hallway, and I headed down, turning at the end into a large room that turned out to be a conference room with a curved table – in the shape of a donut with the hole in the middle – and seven chairs set around it. At each place of the round table was a glass of water – why? I don't know. Five of the seven were occupied by various people, all dressed up in their criminal professional outfits. Three men, two women. I recognized all of them without difficulty.

There was Poison Ivy, dressed in scandalous green clothing with her red hair flowing over her shoulders, sitting alone along one side while Catwoman, in a black leather catsuit that hide all but her eyes, sat between the heavy Penguin, dressed in a tuxedo, and Scarecrow, wearing a brown suit with his mask on his head, on the other. I simply assumed that Raven was in the room too, to be here with Scarecrow. At the far end, sat the Riddler with his question-mark cane between his wide-spread legs. He wore a green hat with a question mark on top of his red-haired head, and I grinned at the red eyemask he wore. He looked like the leader of the criminal masterminds, leaning casually back in his chair, watching the door.

I had automatically melded into the shadows of the room as I had walked in, merging from the shadows of the hallway into the room. There was only one bright light hanging from the ceiling, and it hovered over the hole in the middle of the circular table. I smiled, seeing that this could be my advantage.

The Penguin held a waistcoat watch in his hand, and he snapped it closed. "Seems like it's just us," he said. "The clown's not showing his face."

"He'll turn up," the Riddler said, confidently.

"Sometimes I wonder if we have these meetings just so you can face against the Joker," Poison Ivy said.

The Riddler turned his head. "You know, I never really _liked_ you, Ivy. But with each of these meetings, I've noticed you're _growing on me_." He chuckled softly. "Oh, that one's good enough for the Joker."

Mocking laughter echoed in the room, and I knew who was making his dramatic entrance. "Riddle me this, riddle me that," the Joker said mockingly as he approached the empty seat neat Poison Ivy and Scarecrow. "When is the Riddler not the top _dog_ in Gotham? When the Joker's on the streets." The Joker smirked at the Riddler as he took his seat. "There's a reason why people like _jokes_ better than _riddles_. Everyone likes to laugh more than _think_."

"You're not funny, Joker," the Riddler said, scowling.

The Joker shrugged as he adjusted his jacket. "You take yourself too _ser_-iously, Riddler."

"Coming in alone still, Joker?" Poison Ivy asked before the Riddler could retort.

"Sad, isn't it-ah?" the Joker said, mocking sadness. "But at least I'm _here_. Someone's missing…"

"Mr. Freeze was captured less than a week ago," the Penguin put in.

"Ah, the Iceman," the Joker said, snapping his fingers with recollection. At first, I really believed that he hadn't remembered, but when he snapped his fingers…that told me he was only acting, cause he didn't really want to give away the fact that he had taken Mr. Freeze's place after the police had moved out. "I worried-ah he was getting _cold feet_." The Joker smirked, but didn't laugh. "Glad you all decided to, ah, to _wait_ for me. I ah-_polo_-gize for my lateness."

"We weren't waiting for you," Catwoman murmured, just loud enough for the Joker to hear.

"Growling at me, Kitten?" the Joker asked, throwing her a curious glance. His scarred mouth widened into a ghoulish smile. "Maybe you should take up the _growling_ contest with my Shadow."

"Your shadow doesn't make noise." Catwoman's mouth twitched. She didn't know what – or _who_ – the Joker was really talking about.

"Not _that_ one," he sighed, exasperated as he motioned me forward with two fingers. "I'm talkin' about-ah _this_ Shadow."

I obediently stepped into the circle of light, enough to come out of my shadowmeld technique. Only my eyes and forehead hide in shadow so that the criminals knew I was a woman by my form.

There was a series of reactions from each criminal. The Penguin's eyes, behind his spectacles, widened; Catwoman glared as her cheeks turned slightly red with embarrassment. Poison Ivy looked unfazed and didn't move from her position of sitting with her arms and legs crossed. Scarecrow's face was hidden behind his mask, but I saw a glint of recognition in his icy blue eyes. Lastly, the Riddler simply smiled with curiosity.

"I believe, Joker, that you said you came in alone," the Riddler said.

"I _did_, Riddler," the Joker insisted. "Shadow was in here be-_fore_ me."

Scarecrow cleared his throat as he leaned forward, placing his clasped hands on the tabletop. "There's already one here who can sneak in here without being seen."

"I wasn't _sneak_-ing," I said, confidently. "I _walked_ right in." Then, I felt a tingling sensation, and as my shadow senses kicked in, I sensed someone coming up behind me. Quickly, I sidestepped and grabbed at the air with a hand, gaining hold of something solid. I cracked it down on the table beside the Joker, and whoever it was, my guess was Raven, gave a cry of startled pain.

I was correct; Raven seemed to appear out of nowhere, sitting on the ground and rubbing her head. I hadn't tried to hit her so hard, but my reflexes were faster than my thoughts. Her azure eyes narrowed as she pushed off the ground, bending upward to her feet. She towered over me, easily being five inches taller than me, and I felt like she was belittling me, despite us being friends. Of course, with the way she stood, looking menacing, I saw that we weren't friends at the moment.

Just for show, I played along, glaring back at her and standing my ground.

"Made friends al_-ready _," the Joker complimented, glancing over at Scarecrow. "Might want to, ah, to _separate_ them now before one of them _snaps_."

Scarecrow nodded in agreement and snapped his fingers loudly. Raven fixed me with a cold stare before retreating back to the masked man without taking her eyes away from me. Scarecrow's icy stare chilled me more than Raven's forced angry glare.

"I thought it would be _polite_ to invite Shadow, here, to our 'group therapy sessions'," the Joker explained, "After all, she'll be _joining_ us from now on."

"She's not like the _usual_ people you choose," the Penguin commented.

"She's well-trained," the Joker said, with a grin.

"Another specially-talented woman," Catwoman remarked, still angry.

"Seems like females _are_ better than men," Poison Ivy stated, smugly.

"What makes you say that?" the Riddler asked, curiously. "Just because you have nature powers, Raven has invisibility, and Shadow has other unknown abilities, doesn't make you any higher in our ranking."

"As if we are ranked when we're all together," Ivy breathed irritably, rolling her eyes. "We all know that you're jealous of the Joker being the 'top dog' in Gotham."

"I _am_ the Clown Prince of Crime," the Joker injected, grinning smugly.

"And top most wanted," I murmured, quietly.

"And _you_, Joker, are jealous of us who have special talents," Ivy continued, turning her attention to the clown. "So you went and picked up someone with a talent."

"_Har_-dly," he responded.

"I thought you had a _thing_ with that doctor of yours back in Arkham," Ivy pressed. "You know, the white blonde girl, Harleen Quinzel."

The Joker waved his hand dismissively. "Hardly," he repeated. "My _doc_ happens to be _stupid_ enough to, ah, to write me off as 'cured'." I felt the sides of my mouth twitch as the other criminals came up with remarks to berate the Clown Prince of Crime.

"It's called _manipulation_," the Joker shouted over the others' remarks. "Arkham tends to get boring after awhile so I decided to play with my _doc's_ mind. Something Scarecrow can relate to." Scarecrow nodded grimly.

"You don't _care_ about the artwork of crime," the Riddler growled. "You just enjoy ruining things."

"Plans are my favorite thing to, ah, to _ruin_. It creates _chaos_. Oh, and I _care_, as much as you care about-ah sounding in-_tell_-igent, _Nigma_," the Joker smirked, spreading his hands out wide like it make him look more fantastic. The Riddler glared at him.

It seemed to me like the Joker enjoyed toying with the Riddler the most because he got the serious reactions out of him. It almost made sense because the Joker was all about laughter and fun and chaos, while the Riddler was all about seriousness and planning and order – as far as I could tell.

"We're not here to fight," Scarecrow interjected.

"Are we here for a 'therapy session'?" Catwoman demanded.

I grinned, enjoying this. The way the top criminal masterminds fought amongst themselves, and there were a few who would try to keep us all on the same level of anger and hatred. When I glanced at the Joker, he was leaning back casually, obviously enjoying this as much as I was, and _he_ was the one who was revving everybody up.

"To make the clown happy because he seems to _need_ it _desperately_," the Penguin remarked after one of the others' comment, gripping his glass and raising it to his lips.

Without realizing what I was doing, I grabbed my gun from my belt and pulled the trigger. The Joker's hand flew up and knocked my hand slightly to the side so that it hit the Penguin's glass, shattering it and spilling water out the table.

The Penguin gasped with a funny-sounding "Waugh!"

All the criminals looked at me and the Joker, who still had his hand on my wrist. Most of them were surprised, but two of them – the Riddler and Scarecrow – stared at me intently with interest and curiosity.

"That remark was uncalled for, Penguin," I growled. I felt the Joker's grip on my wrist tighten painfully, but I ignored it and lowered my gun, keeping it at my side. The Joker reached over with his other hand and pried my fingers from my weapon. I let him take it from me, as I was confused by why I was reacting angrily to the Penguin's remark about the Joker. I was beginning to surprise myself.

"Maybe _not_ so well trained," the Riddler said, smirking at the Joker as the Joker pocketed my handgun.

"I like a woman with her _own_ in-_telli_-gence," the Joker responded, calmly. "Unlike your own pair of _prostitutes_."

I heard a shuffle of feet rather across the room, and I realized that there were two women standing on either side of the Riddler, a step behind to hide in the shadows on their own. The Riddler surprised me by getting really angry about the Joker's harsh comment, so angry that he couldn't speak.

I looked out of the corner of my eyes to see the triumphant grin on the Joker's face.

The Riddler took a few moments to regain his composure. His red gloved-hands rubbed the curve of his cane as he thought his words through. "Joker," he said, his voice calm, "How long has Shadow been with you? I don't recall seeing her when we last happened to cross paths."

The Joker shifted in his seat as if he didn't know whether or not to tell the Riddler the truth. I didn't see what the problem was; he could just claim that he had left me at the base for that one time.

"Almost three weeks," the Joker answered unexpectedly as he pushed his green-tinted hair back.

The looks of surprise made the Joker chuckle.

"What? Didn't think I could make her stay with me for that long?" the Joker asked, like he didn't understand anyone's surprise.

"Shadow, is that true?" Poison Ivy asked, carefully. I was surprised myself, by how honest the Joker was. Unable to speak, I simply nodded.

I shrugged, as wordless as everyone else in the room. It didn't matter to me how I long had stayed with the Joker. He wasn't bribing me or doing anything that I didn't like – not including the few times I've caught him off guard and he had nearly killed me in his state of surprise and anger. I had been pulled into the Joker's influence since he first took me off the streets.

The Joker had definitely won me over, far quicker than any other man had in my life – and I mean loyalty and respect-wise.

Finally, Scarecrow stood up, his towering six feet giving him the advantage, and soon, everyone's eyes were focused on him. "Despite how _some_ of us are enjoying the arguing," – the Joker chuckled softly to himself – "And the _almost_ unpenetratable silence" – I grinned faintly – "We should probably end that now, and actually get to why we're here."

"Did we _have_ a particular reason?" Poison Ivy asked as Scarecrow seated himself again, "Or does the Riddler has _another_ plan to end the Batman."

"I didn't exactly _plan_ this meeting," the Riddler began, but the Penguin cut across him.

"What _was_ the last one?" the Penguin asked, curiously.

"How he wanted all of us to join together and defeat Batman," Raven said, "Which three of us turned down."

The Riddler took a deep breath – he seemed to be on the verge of losing his temper – and said, "Well, the _Joker_ doesn't exactly want Batman gone."

"I'd help out Batman if you joined together," the Joker said, casually. "We're all different personalities that would clash at every turn. Even if some of us work alone, ahem, Kitten and Ivy-."

"Not anymore," Poison Ivy interrupted.

The Joker widened his eyes with mock surprise. "Bane's back in the picture?"

An inhuman growl echoed in the room, and the hairs on the back of my neck prickled uneasily. I turned my head and realized that there was someone – someone _big_ – standing in the shadows behind Poison Ivy's chair. I took a slight step toward the Joker, wishing I had noticed the one hiding in _my_ shadows.

"Hello, Bane, long time no see," the Joker called, cheerfully. "As I was saying, even those who are _solo_ have the wish for _control_, for _order_."

I rolled my eyes, expecting the Joker to go into a preaching moment of telling why chaos was better than order. He surprised me though.

"It'd be _hectic_, Riddler," the Joker growled, his tone hardening, anger flashing across his face. "I _don't_ recommend it."

"Which is why I _dropped_ it the _last_ meeting," the Riddler snapped, irritated.

"Good, now that we're all on the same page…" The Joker snapped his wrist out to the side and then back – like he had for my best friend's picture – and he produced a deck of cards. "The reason why we're here is to give each other 'therapy' so why don't we _do_ that while playing a game. Like a get-together. Who's up for poker?"

"You'll win," Catwoman growled.

"_I'm_ not _playing_," the Joker said, standing up. He stepped out of the way and then placed a hand on my shoulder. "Shadow's taking my place. I'll be the dealer." He applied pressure on my shoulder and sat me down in his place. "And to make _sure_ I don't _cheat_…" He drifted off as he set the deck in front of me. "Take out the jokers. No wild cards tonight," he told me as he started to pull his arms out of his jacket.

"If you're not playing, Joker, maybe we'll chance the wild cards," the Riddler said, smirking. "Leave _one_ wild card in the deck, Shadow." I flashed him an amused grin as I slid the deck along the table, neatly laying them all out. I pulled out one joker card and set it aside before taking up the deck and shuffling it.

The Joker, after placing his jacket on the back of _my_ chair, had also started to take off his gloves, and when I said, "I doubt you'll have cards in your gloves at _this_ hour, Mister J. Besides, you'll get the cards dirty."

The Joker gave me a strange look before laughing with amusement. "Who needs group therapy when you're around?" he giggled, taking the deck from me, and shuffling a great deal faster than I could – and I mean, that's saying a lot because I shuffle quicker than _most_ people. "You playing, Raven?" he asked.

"No thanks," Raven replied, curtly.

The Joker simply shrugged, carelessly, focusing on his shuffling. Of course, since I was watching him, he started performing fancy cuts and shuffles so Poison Ivy started a conversation.

"While he's showing _off_ to his girl, you made a successful escape from Arkham, Scarecrow," Poison Ivy began. "Did Raven help you, or did she need help?"

"The Joker owed me a favor," Raven replied, her tone hard. I wouldn't expect anything else, with the fact that Poison Ivy had spoken to Scarecrow rather than Raven about the escape. "He and Shadow helped me out."

Poison Ivy's eyes widened. "The _Joker_ owed you a _favor_?"

"That's what I _said_."

"How in the world did you get _him_ to do it?"

The Joker began passing out the cards for the poker game, more like shooting them like darts at everyone, managing to throw them in the precise way for them to make the journey across the room to land _directly_ before the Riddler, the Penguin, and Catwoman who were farthest from him. "I love how she's talks about me like I'm _not here_," he murmured, giggling softly. With all my shadow senses on, I heard him, but kept my confusion from my face.

Raven smirked at Poison Ivy and said, with a crooked smile, "Why, Poison Ivy, ever thought to ask him _nicely_? He's really _quite_ the gentleman."

The Penguin snorted loudly as he collected his cards.

"That's Penguin's title," the Riddler pointed out. "Joker's a clown."

"So what's that make _you_, Nigma?" the Joker asked as he started shuffling the cards again, waiting. "Genius of Crime? The mastermind who can't _kill_ anyone without having nightmares about it-_ah_!" The Joker laughed. "I should just call you 'Harmless' Genius of Crime then."

"You think I'm harmless?" the Riddler asked, darkly. He stood up. "I'll _prove_ to you that I'm harm-_ful_."

"Oh, _please_, you can't beat Batsy in the _harmful_ department," the Joker said, blowing it off with a wave of his hand.

"We're not here to _fight_," Scarecrow said, sternly.

"Come _on_, Scarecrow," the Joker complained, "This is a _therapy_ session. We should be getting out _all_ our frust-_r_-ations out. Don't disrupt the therapy."

"_You're_ the one causing the disruption, clown," Poison Ivy argued.

The Joker shrugged, passing out cards again for a second round – amazing how the criminals could be so wound up in their conversation but still play the game at hand. I wondered how _often_ they have these meetings. I could hardly keep up with the conversation, much less the game – all I had focused on the poker game was my reflexes and split-second thoughts.

"I bring disruption to _life_, Ivy," the Joker explained. "It's what I do. That's the definition of _chaos_."

Catwoman scoffed. "I'm surprised a clown knows about chaos."

The Joker flicked a card at her, but she managed to catch it before it hit her in the eye. "_First_ of all, _I_ was in Gotham _before_…_any_ of you," he growled. "And you don't _count_, Scarecrow. You weren't working on your _own_ yet. _Second_, I _did_ go to school. I was just _too intelligent_ to finish it and chaos was _calling_ me."

I turned my head and blinked at him, catching the reference to his scar story about his step-mom beating him for staying out late, studying. Before he caught sight of me, I jerked my head back and focused on my cards.

We were quiet for a bit, until the beginning of the third round, where I realized I had the Joker's card in my hand, along with a number of good cards – aka. three other cards that were _exactly_ the same. I'd be hard to beat at this point.

"Let's go into psychology for a moment," the Joker said. "I've been wondering…Kitten, you don't go to Arkham; you go to Blackgate so you don't necessarily _need_ these _therapy_ sessions. Why you come, is a mystery to me, but since you're here, it means you'll have to be a victim of verbal _abuse_. Everyone else has had their share in _some_ particular way."

"How's _that_?" the Riddler asked.

"If you were paying attention, _Nigma_," the Joker growled. "You and your serious harmlessness. Penguin almost getting _shot_ by Shadow. Ivy being proved a fool by Raven. Scarecrow and Raven combined asked about the escape from Arkham. Me having Shadow around. Even _Mr. Freeze_ has been talked about. It's only _fair_ for _you_ to have a turn."

Catwoman made to stand, but the Joker glared at her, darkly.

"No way _out_ of it, Kitten," the Joker growled, flicking a card at me for my call. "Next time, _don't come_, if you don't want to be _abused_." She stiffened, but seated herself down. The Joker's mood instantly lightened, and he was grinning again. "So, I'll make it easy for you, _this_ time, Kitten. You have any _interesting_ fascination for our flying rodent friend-."

"Speak for yourself, Joker," Catwoman snarled.

"It's not the _same_, Kitten," the Joker argued. "I'm not-ah _gay_. He and I couldn't exist without the other. Yin and yang, black and white."

"If anything, only your _face_ is white," Poison Ivy grumbled, putting down her cards on the table.

"Only Harvey Dent was white," Scarecrow remarked, revealing his hand.

"And I brought him down," the Joker said, proudly.

"The media doesn't say so," the Riddler argued, snapping his cards down.

"You don't want to believe in _every_-thing the media tells you," the Joker remarked, motioning me to reveal my cards. I did, revealing the wild card with four jacks, _another_ five-of-a-kind, and the other master criminals groaned. "The ones who know the truth are me, Gordon, and Batsy." As I collected the winnings, the Joker sighed sadly, and said, "Come to _think_ of it, I haven't _seen_ Batman around."

"You've been too _busy_," the Penguin said, his eyes darting towards me for a few seconds.

The Joker slammed his fist on the table in anger. "I _told_ you, I'm _not_…_that_ kind of _guy_!" he snapped.

"Can I kill him?" I asked, glaring at the obese man.

"Not now, Shadow," the Joker replied easily. "Maybe I'll just leave Iceberg Lounge with a great many _fire_-works to attract Batman's attention."

"Not necessary, Joker," Raven said. The Joker threw a cold stare in her direction, but she motioned for him to be quiet. For a few seconds, we all waited in dead silence, ears perked.

By the way the Glasgow smile was returning to the Joker's face, I knew what I should be listening for, and I heard it. The sound of a loud _commotion_ in the main part of the nightclub.

The other criminals stood up and started to leave, but I grabbed the Joker's arm before he could run out.

"Listen, I _know_ you want to go see Batman, but can't we _not_?" I asked.

"Scared of him, _aren't_ ya?" the Joker teased me. I wasn't amused. He saw the seriousness in my expression, and I saw his excitement fade painfully. "All right, _fine_, let's go," he said, wearily. "Get my jacket."

I smiled weakly as I retrieved his purple coat and handed it to him. He seemed to be moving slow on purpose, slipping one arm into a sleeve and then the others, taking time to make sure it was straightened. He was driving me nuts with anxiety.

Once he was set, we were the last ones in the conference room. The Joker sighed and picked up his deck of cards, slipping them into his pocket before heading out.

I was confused. "I thought we can in through _that_ door," I said, pointing.

"Didn't you know that going _out_ the same way you came _in_ is the _best_ way of getting _caught_?" the Joker asked.

I bit back a retort to that and merely nodded.

"Let's go, Shadow." He was already across the room.

"No," I said, hurrying toward him. He turned toward me, eyes suspicious. I shadowed forward, grabbing him by the shoulders and shadowed.

The Joker might not have noticed, but I heard the breathing up on the ceiling. If I hadn't shadowed to reach the Joker, I was positive that the Batman would have caught him before I got there.

* * *

**Lordlink13: You know what I've noticed (suddenly realizes that's part of the Joker's lines in the hospital scene with Harvey Dent), ha-ha, laugh at myself, **_**anyway**_**…you know what I've noticed, comparing myself to other Joker/OC authors, I've been the best "on-time" updater. I set the update for once a week, and I keep my promise to that – if I ever fail, it's like **_**two**_** days later, at the most – whereas other stories don't get updated on a regular basis. Some fail to be updated until like a month or **_**longer**_**. It **_**tortures**_** me! So I understand the **_**agony**_** for some of you, but really, would you rather me update once a week or once a **_**month**_**? *obvious look in **The-Stalker**'s direction* Love ya all, anyway!****  
**


	25. Near Death

What did matter that I had rescued the Joker from Batman after the meeting? He gave me the cold-shoulder treatment for days afterwards, clearly not happy that he hadn't been able to see his "best bud". I didn't understand why the Joker enjoyed having Batman around; I was annoyed by the fact that the Joker thought he was worthy of keeping alive, for the madman's own amusement.

Within those cold-shoulder days – there was four of them – the Joker left without telling me, taking the guys with him. I was stuck with the dogs, which I didn't mind that much because I _loved_ dogs, especially Rottweilers. They were good dogs, and I loved them. I hadn't seen any of the Joker's men training them so I tried it, managing to discover that they were indeed trained, and I learned a number of signals they followed.

The Rottweilers and I were playing a game of ball – five days after the criminal meeting – when the Joker and his men returned in the black van. Buddy and Prince nearly went mad, barking at the van as Peter parked it, running to the passenger's side where the Joker was sitting, wagging their tails excitedly. Scout merely sat down on her haunches at my side, her tail wagging, but containing her excitement well.

The Joker bounded out of the van, crouching and rough wrestling the two Rottweilers, ignored by his men as they unloaded the vehicle. I scratched Scout's head, smiling with amusement as Buddy and Prince jumped on the Joker, bowling him over and knocking his head against the van. The clown simply laughed, shoving both dogs off him, trying to get to his feet before they attacked him again.

I put my lips together in a sharp, clear whistle.

Immediately, Buddy and Prince stopped and looked at me, perking their ears, before racing over to me. I crouched and patted them, almost being knocked over by Scout who became jealous for attention. I laughed as the three of them started licking my face at the same time, but stopped when I saw the Joker's expression.

I stood up, ignoring the Rottweilers' whines, meeting his stare.

The Joker merely shrugged and then headed for the metal stairs up to the second floor of the warehouse.

After four days of being ignored, I didn't take to that simple action very well. I looked for Dean, and saw him watching me and the Joker. I pointed to him and then to the dogs around me, a frown on my face. He whistled, calling the three toward him – I suppose he was the one who trained them – and once they were off me, I ran after the Joker.

He had just turned into the hallway when I caught up with him. Angered, I grabbed him and threw him at the wall, a hand pressing his face into it.

"I don't take well to this kind of treatment, _Joker_," I growled. "I can understand _one_ day, but _four_, moving into _five_?" He tried to push away from the wall, but I activated my shadow state, becoming stronger than him with the combination of my shadow state and my anger. I jerked his arm up, painfully, behind his back.

At the same time, someone jumped me from behind, grabbing me in a neck-hold. I immediately released the Joker to deal with my own attacker. I pushed off the Joker with my feet, slamming my attacker against the opposite wall. Before the Joker could turn, I shadowed, bringing my attacker elsewhere, down in the basement, a small hidden room where the dogs were usually kept.

I struggled against my attacker, trying to break his hold on my neck. Once my feet touched the ground, I elbowed him hard in the ribs, stomping hard on his foot. His grip loosened enough for me to free myself. I turned and punched him, knocking him down to the ground. I gave myself enough time to recognize my attacker before shadowing away, appearing on the roof of the warehouse.

I sat down, angry and frustrated, my body shaking with the adrenaline rush. After a few minutes, I had calmed down and was listing reasons for my irrational actions. I _was_ annoyed with the Joker. For the three weeks I had been with him, I was his main focus, and then suddenly, that attention has been diverted to Batman.

I should have just _let_ the Joker be caught by Batman. He could have had his fun fulfilled, I would have rescued him from the MCU again, and then I wouldn't be ignored.

And because I've been ignored, I'm been moping, remaining indoors for several days, playing with the dogs. The fresh air helped the quick calming process, and it made me feel better, despite how the Joker would probably _kill_ me the next time he saw him.

Maybe now was the best time to leave Gotham City, and simply disappear?

I stood up and watched the night sky, longing for something I didn't understand.

I don't know how long I had been standing there, but I realized that my legs were starting to hurt from remaining still. I hadn't decided to leave; I loved Gotham. I couldn't leave it. I headed inside, and it was only a minute later, outside the door to my shared bedroom with the Joker that I was grabbed from behind, turned around, and slammed into the door.

I blinked, grinding my teeth in pain, my eyes merely catching the sight of black, white, and red. It took me a moment to realize that it was the Joker, and even then, I was still confused.

"Where were you?" he asked, his tone hard, his eyes narrowed.

"On the roof," I answered, truthfully. I couldn't read his emotions, but I had the suspicion that he was on the verge of becoming angry. Lying would only push him in the wrong direction.

The Joker blinked, startled as he pulled his face away, enough so that I could see his face more clearly than just colors. "Why?" he asked, playing with his mouth.

I shrugged. "To clear my head. I acted out of anger, irritation…I really _don't_ take well to being ignored after having all the attention."

"You're _jealous_ of Batsy, aren't ya?" The Joker thought this was funny. I waited for him to regain his composure before I said, "I suppose I am."

"Well, _keep_ being jealous, cause I _still_ haven't seen him." The Joker pulled me away from the door, wrapping an arm around my waist as he turned the doorknob.

"So you're talking to me again…" I said, cautiously.

"I guess it was a mis-_take_ on my part," he replied, casually leading me into the bedroom. "Ignoring you wasn't the smartest move." He looked at me and flashed a grin, right before he pushed me against the wall. He licked his lips slowly, his eyes focused on mine. "I hope you'll forgive me…_eventually_."

I smiled faintly. "Already have."

"Good." He grabbed my face with both hands and pressed his lips against mine. I was taken by surprise, dazed as he pulled away, giggling to himself as he turned and bounded over to the dresser – the bedroom had collected more pieces of furniture since we moved in.

I shook my head, trying to clear it, all too aware by the fact that my heart was beating rapidly, my breath caught in my throat. I tried to avoid looking at him, but the Joker returned, carrying a few things in his hands. Seeing how I couldn't look him in the eye, he chuckled.

I glared at him, but I felt my face heat up from a rising blush. The Joker laughed harder, dropping the items he was holding, and grabbed me, kissing me again. This time, I managed to slip my arms around his neck, kissing him back, and he pulled away, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Do _you_ have a thing for _me_?" he asked, curiously.

"Yes," I replied, honestly, and he giggled, amused.

"I'll keep that in mind from now on." His tone was light, smiling. "But I _might_, ah, _ruin_ that _thing_."

I gave him a confused look, and then he suddenly dipped me, tango-style. I nearly shrieked with surprise as he set me on the ground, moving over me. From fear of what he was going to do, I shadowed underneath the bed, hiding from him.

"You're still in the room, _Sha_-dow," he drawled, lightly. "You can't _hide_ from me." I watched his feet as he moved about the room, searching for possible shadows that I might be hiding in. Using a trick I had discovered while I was "ignored", I sent out a shadow form of myself, placing it near the door.

The Joker turned, looking at my shadow, studying it. "A new trick of yours?" he asked, curiously. I let my shadow's mouth turn into a smile as it started tapping its foot, crossing its arms. The Joker grinned.

"I _know_ I'm gonna win," he said confidently, licking his lips.

My shadow moved to the window, and he had to turn to face it. The Joker tilted his head, watching my shadow's every move. Again, it started tapping its foot.

Then, the Joker lunged at my shadow, and I called it back, startled by his sudden movement. Abruptly, the Joker dived onto the floor and reached under the bed. I screamed and tried to move away, but his hand clasped onto my wrist painfully.

Shadowing away would have done nothing at that point. The Joker proved his strength – for the umpteenth time – by easily pulling me out from underneath the bed with one heave. Once I was free from the bed, he bounced and sat on my chest.

"What a _naughty_ little shadow," the Joker giggled as he grabbed my flailing hands, holding them with one hand as he grabbed something off to the side. It turned out to be a piece of rope, and he started to tie my hands, quickly. "All I want to do is make you a _star_, Shadow."

I fought to get my hands away from him, but he wouldn't let them go. "A star for _what_?" I rolled my eyes, sighing with exasperation. "What does it matter? I'm pretty sure that means something _completely_ different from what you said."

The Joker smacked my cheek playfully. "C'mon, Shadow, I _planned_ this for you. I've already sent my invitation to the Commissioner." I blinked in surprise, and he gave me an innocent puppy look. "Don't hurt my feelings about this, Shadow. I'm trying to makeup for _ignoring_ you."

I continued to stare at him in shock. "You _planned_ this?"

"It's to show the schemers that plans are useless. They _always_ have something go wrong."

"And what do you think will be for this plan to go wrong?"

"It's _meant_ to go wrong, _dar_-ling." The Joker grinned as I frowned at the usage of the hated petname. "Batman or the police will save you."

"I should have known," I groaned. "Tying me up and using me to get the attention of Batman. So much for making up for ignoring me." Then, I felt a sense of panic. "What if they _don't_?" The Joker paused in the tying of his knot to look at me. "Didn't think of that, did you?" The Joker only shrugged, resuming the tying and testing it to make sure I couldn't work it undone. "What if I happen to _die_ during this particular prank?"

"You won't," he replied. He sounded so certain, so confident, but it didn't comfort me.

"But _if_ I do…"

"_If_…'if' is the keyword in that statement, Shadow, _but_…if you _do_ die, I'd be _very_ upset." He patted my cheek, grinning. "Nothing to worry about, _Sha_-dow." He reached off to the side again, and when I turned my head, my eyes following his hand, he picked up a dart gun.

"Have you been having _sleep_ problems lately, Shadow?" the Joker asked, placing the barrel to my wrist.

My eyes widened, "Oh no, Joker, don't-." I winced as I felt the stinging bite of the dart. "…If I wake up and find that you _screwed_ me over-."

"I'm _not_ that kind of _guy_, Shadow," the Joker growled, leaning close to my face. "I prefer that you're _awake_ when we reach that point."

"You're _sick_," I said, my voice softening as I spoke. The sleeping drug was making its course through my body.

"That's why I go to Arkham, to get _cured_." The Joker laughed, his laughter ringing oddly as my eyelids grew heavy. "But I'm not _that_ sick. I'm just a human being, a male for that matter."

"As if that explains everything," I murmured, my speech slurred with sleep.

"It _should_, to a woman like you," his voice echoed in response. My eyes closed, but I felt him place a tender kiss on my lips before sleep overcame me.

* * *

A harsh wind awoke me, the whistling combing with the blood pounding in my ears. Pressure resided in my head, behind my eyes. The breeze blew my hanging hair, and I found it difficult to concentrate through the pounding headache. With some effort, I opened my eyes, looking up – wouldn't I normally be looking _down?_ – to find myself hanging upside down by a thick cord, wound tightly around my ankle.

"What the…" I winced; no wonder why my head hurt, with all the blood rushing through my head. I even had my hands tied behind my back, bound tight enough to slowly cut into my skin. I tried remembering how I had gotten into this situation, and gradually, it came back to me.

The Joker had tied me up beforehand, and had knocked me unconscious. Why he didn't just hit me with something, I don't know, but he was nice enough to use a sleeping drug. I felt groggy because of it, but my head would hurt lots more if he had hit me.

I couldn't even _guess_ what the Joker was planning. I appeared to be hanging besides a tall building, a skyscraper, and I was directly in front of an open window. If I could just _swing_ myself over, I could grab hold of the window and try to…wait, my ankle was still tied, same with my hands. I groaned in frustration, wishing I hadn't lost the dagger Raven had given me from my first night in Gotham.

Boy, don't I wish I had it right now…

I noticed something blinking in the window, and I located a blinking red light. I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure out what it was.

Two levels above, there was a loud _thunk_ against the glass window. I looked up, using my neck muscles to hold my head. There was quiet, and then the _thunk_ was repeated a number of times before the glass shattered. I shut my eyes, looking down to avoid getting pieces of glass in my face. The din of laughter reached my ears, the moment the glass broke. It wasn't hard to distinguish _whose_ laughter it was.

It was only a few moments later, and the laughing man flew out the window, falling head-over-heels, laughing insanely like he was enjoying it.

"Joker!" I shrieked and reached out. I barely managed to grab his jacket around his shoulders, and he stopped, almost slipping right out of his purple coat in the process.

He sighed, heavily, clearly upset that I had saved him, and he looked up. "You _had_ to ruin it, Shadow," he grumbled.

"You'd die if you hit the ground."

"It's _only_ water below us."

My ears perked, and my mouth went dry, making it difficult to repeat the word. "_Water_?" The Joker nodded and then looked up at me, his scarred mouth dropping open. My eyes moved past him, and the sight of the water had my throat constricting.

The Joker swore as his hands reached up, grabbing onto the rope tied around my wrists. He had good enough timing as I had released his coat, my hands going numb.

"I'm sorry, Shadow!" the Joker said loudly, "I forgot!"

"Bastard, don't think I'll _ever_ forgive you for this treatment." My retort was automatic, my mouth working on autopilot as my body started to register the unbearable burst of fear coursing through my body. "I'm not gonna survive…"

"Don't think like that, Shadow," the Joker told me sharply. "You'll be fine. See? I'm here."

"Not comforting…" My voice was starting to break and soon, I knew that I wouldn't be able to talk at all. "Just get me out of here…"

"Will do, Shadow. My fault you're in this situation. I'm gonna get you out."

I gave a dry laugh, only to start choking. "Didn't…think I'd…_ever_…hear you say…it's…your fault." I was short of breath, and I knew from experience that it was only going to get worse until I stopped breathing altogether.

The strain on my arms from the Joker's weight didn't register. The numbing sensation crept up from my hands, overtaking my arms and my shoulders as my body started trembling madly. Beads of perspiration ran down my face even though my head and neck felt chilly. My throat tightened making it troublesome to breath, worsening my condition. My heart raced rapidly, causing my chest to start hurting, like pressure was building up inside.

The Joker tightened his grip on the rope tied around my wrist, and he started kicking his legs out, swinging his body back and forth.

Even through my inability to comprehend what the Joker was doing, I _knew_ what was happening to me. It had happened before…when my cursed father hung me over water.

I was having a panic attack!

The Joker called my names several times, having to particularly scream it for my eyes to dart from the water below to his face, even as he swung. "Look at me, Shadow!" he yelled. "Focus on me, nothing else. Nothing else _exists_!" My eyes moved back to the water, and I panicked, trying to breathe, but I couldn't. "SHADOW! LOOK AT _ME_!" I did, but my chest heaved, the lack of air burning inside me.

The Joker was swinging violently, dangerously. He was swinging so hard that he was becoming horizontal. I tried to tell him to stop, in case his hands gave out, but with no air, I couldn't speak.

Abruptly, the muscles in his arms tightened, and he heaved himself up one last time, releasing my rope. My eyes followed him as he flew up into the air over me, his arms reaching towards me, and came down, catching himself on me, wrapping his legs around mine to secure his position.

I couldn't breath. I struggled, my eyes _fixed_ on the Joker as he slowly slid down my body, trying to bring his face to mine. I felt numbness in my lips, and I closed my eyes, realizing that this was it. I was gonna die because of a panic attack. The Joker had placed me in a situation that I had to face my worst fear, and it was going to _kill_ me.

"Shadow!" he called my name. "Shadow? Open your eyes. It's okay." I shook my head slowly, keeping my eyes shut. I was suffocating, and it _hurt_. My lungs felt like they were going to burst, same with my racing heart. I was dying, and it was _agony_.

"Breathe, Shadow! Breathe!" Again I shook my head slowly. "No, Shadow! BREATHE!" Even the anger in his voice couldn't hide his immediate fear. My lips tingled slightly, and I felt pressure against them as I felt a hand behind my neck. Two fingers pinched my nose closed as a blast of air rushed into my mouth, down my throat, and into my lungs, filling them. It didn't matter; I couldn't breathe out.

I was paralyzed, unable to move anything. The panic attack had gotten the best of me quickly, and it was going to finish me off. I would die young, but I had no regrets, not anymore, not after meeting the Joker…

"Stay with me, Shadow!" He was pleading, _begging_ me, but I couldn't. My body was shutting down. I lost all feeling, unable to figure out anything. Hanging upside down, I couldn't fight against the pull of gravity, and my eyelids fell open. I saw the Joker's painted face, but there was no comprehension. "_SHADOW_!" The agony in his cry, it wouldn't register, _nothing_ would. I could just _wait_ for my mind to shutdown forever.

* * *

"No…" There was no trace of submission in the Joker's tone. He couldn't give up, not on _her_.

Desperately, he twisted his upper body before swinging himself back and then up, using his abdomen to bring him up to the cord that was tied around Shadow's ankle.

The Joker grabbed the cord with one hand, grunting with his weight as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out his switchblade and clicked it open. "Forgive me, Shadow," he murmured as he pressed the sharp edge against the cord and started cutting it.

"Joker, stop!" The Joker ignored Batman's calls from overhead, working furiously against the stubborn cord. "You don't want to be doing this, Joker!" Batman yelled.

"Yes, I _do_!" the Joker screamed back, his voice cracking. "It's the _only_ way!"

"Really, Joker, it's _not_!" He didn't understand the predicament. The Joker turned a cold-shoulder to him and renewed his efforts against the cord. Gradually, it started to break, and the Joker continued sawing it, his heart pounding desperately in his chest.

If he lost her…he'd never be able to _forgive_ himself, for losing her because of his own stupidity.

The cord was beginning to yield, and the Joker's mouth stretched into a slight smile. It didn't matter, he was going to lose the battle…a battle he knew he could have won many times over but he had been too…_afraid_?…to tell her.

The cord snapped, and the sudden drop caught the Joker by surprise, even though he had been expecting it. His switchblade slipped out of his hand, but he snatched it, shoving it into his pant pocket before trying to locate Shadow. She was mere inches away from him, and the Joker reached, grabbing her limp arm and pulling her towards him, holding her tightly, protectively, as they plunged towards the water.

With a hard _splash_, the Joker hit the water first, Shadow after him. A shocking cold swept through him as water rushed into his nose, and numbness bite into his hands. He almost lost his grip on Shadow, but realizing before, he wrapped his arms around her and started kicking, working for the surface.

The Joker sputtered as he broke the surface with Shadow, nearly falling under as he gulped for air. He spat water out, jerked his wet hair out of his face, and then looked at Shadow, seeing that she was looking very pale. Desperately, he looked around for some place to bring her, finding a small port nearby.

He swam for it, pulling Shadow along with him. As he swam, his mind was whirling in several different directions at once, his thoughts running restlessly through his head. How could he have forgotten about Shadow's fear? How could he be so _cruel_? The whole thing wasn't even his _idea_!

He reached the port, and after taking a deep breath, he went underwater, swimming underneath Shadow and heaving her up onto the port. Breaking the surface, he shoved her up the rest of the way on and then heaved himself up. He took deep breaths before moving to where her still form lay, turning her over onto her back.

Her eyes were closed, and her chest wasn't moving. The Joker immediately went to work, bending over and covering her mouth with his, pinching her nose closed as he breathed for her. He pushed her chest a few numbers and came back to replenish the air in her lungs. Right in the middle of his breathing, she suddenly choked, and he moved away, turning her to her side as she coughed up water, taking loud ragged breaths.

As she started breathing on her own, her body started to tremble with the mixture of the coldness of the water and of the shock of her overwhelming fear. The Joker pulled off his wet jacket, wishing it wasn't, and placed it over her after trying his best to squeeze most of the water out of it. Luckily, it was leather so it didn't hold as much water as any other jacket would have.

Shadow started to hyperventilate, and the Joker moved quickly to her other side. "Shadow, I'm here. It's okay. It's over." She looked at him through unfocused eyes, and he placed a hand over her eyes. "Listen to my voice, Shadow," he said. "Breathe with me. Inhale…" He purposely breathed in loudly so she could hear him. She tried her best to copy him. "Good, now, _exhale_…"

For a few minutes, he calmly talked her through the process of breathing until the hyperventilation had stopped. He rubbed her shoulder, speaking softly, remembering a time he had to do this before…many years ago…with a friend he had known…

"B-Bastard," she mumbled, shakily terribly.

The Joker moved closer and gently picked her up, holding her to him. "I know, I'm truly sorry, Shadow…"

"I'll…_kill_…you." She was very short of breath.

"Later, Shadow," he said, using a hand to press her head to his shoulder. "You can kill me later, but not now."

"Yeah…later…" Her voice cracked, and she started to cry weakly, having no energy or breath to downright _sob_.

The Joker, a strange patience and care overcoming him, merely held her, rocking her back and forth like she was a child, stroking her hair and whispering, "It's okay now. Go ahead and cry. It's over."

It was only minutes later, when Shadow had subsided into silence, that the Joker looked around and chuckled softly.

"What?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"We're on Miller Harbor," he said, "I brought you here on our _drive_." He smiled, remembering it, and lowered his head, to see her reaction.

She simply shuddered, leaning into him. He watched her for a few moments before he could hear her deep breathing. The Joker was careful to avoid waking her as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a cell phone. Of course, it was wet, but he might be lucky.

He flipped it open and held the button to turn it on. Mercifully, it turned on; it still worked. He dialed a number and then placed the phone to his ear. It rung once before the person on the other line picked up.

"_Boss? Is that you? Where are you?"_

"Let me answer the _first_ question, Bleak," the Joker growled. "Yes, it's me. Come pick me up on Miller Harbor."

"_What happened to Shadow?"_

"She's fine. We went for a swim." The Joker's mouth twitched as Shadow suddenly moved closer to him, moaning softly in her sleep. "Mind getting here?"

"_I'll be there in two minutes."_

"Good." The Joker hung up and then tossed the phone into the harbor. He wasn't going to need it, and when he needed another one, he could just send Bleak out for one. _Note to self_, he thought, _Get a phone for Shadow…_

Bleak was good, reaching the harbor in less than two minutes. The Joker waited for him, cradling Shadow's still form in his arms. Even before Bleak climbed out of the driver's seat, the Joker had the sidedoor open, and he was settling Shadow across the backseat.

"Looks like it was _more_ than just a swim," Bleak remarked, arching an eyebrow. "What happened?"

"My own stupidity," the Joker grunted, running a hand through his wet locks. "That's the last time I'll listen to _Peter's_ ideas."

"This was _Peter's_ idea?" The Joker winced. "Are you _that_ oblivious to how he feels about Shadow?"

The Joker spun, eyes wide. "What?"

"Peter _hates_ Shadow." Bleak shook his head, heaving a sigh. "I'm gonna _beat_ him next time I see him."

"Mind if I get him first?" the Joker asked, leaning out of the van.

Bleak gave him a confused look before grinning wickedly. "I'll just deal with the remains then."

The Joker laughed as Bleak moved around to the driver's seat again. "I think I'll have to rename you from Bleak to…_Comical_."

"Sorry, boss, but Bleak's grown on me." He settled himself in the front seat and then looked up at the sky.

Seeing this, the Joker grinned. "How's the weather?"

"Bleak," was the response, causing the Joker to laugh.

* * *

**Lordlink13: This chapter had several things going on. I needed to pass the time in the story. I felt like the Joker needed to do something stupid and then save Shadow, make her feel more in debt with him. And I wanted to give a picture of how the Joker actually felt about having Bleak/Dean around. **_**And**_** I wanted to get someone in trouble with the Joker (aka. Peter)...and to give the Joker an excuse to perform CPR on Shadow. So I hope everything's okay. This was a very shaky chapter, and I promise to do better, if you didn't like this one. I needed to get the plot moving. Please review and let me know what you think. Until next time!**


	26. Hard Feelings

How long can someone hold a grudge – if they could – against people close to them?

That's always been a question that I've asked myself in situations rather close to my current one.

After being traumatized close to death, I was bedridden for some odd number of days. I couldn't quite remember any of them; they were all a blur. If anything, I remember hearing two different voices, sometimes hearing one and sometimes hearing both, but I knew it was the same two guys in the room whenever I surfaced enough to be aware of my surroundings.

It was like I was drugged. I wasn't in a hospital, but it was close. One visitor was the nurse and the other was the doctor. Whenever they spoke, it was in quiet tones, though one of them, the Doctor, often forgot and raised his voice a number of times before the Nurse calmed him down.

In a state of delirium, that's what I called them, the Nurse and the Doctor. Both male, one wearing purple while the other wore everyday clothing, but that didn't seem to matter.

I snapped out of it, eventually. The softness of the mattress underneath me was the first thing I noticed. I had comfortably snuggled into the covers, facing the windows with the shades down, small streams of light slipping through. My head throbbed as I shifted, pushing myself up slowly, feeling achy all over.

I sat up and propped myself against the headboard, pressing my palms into my eyes and gently rubbing them. Dropping my hands into my lap, I sighed and then realized that I wasn't the only one on the bed.

Beside me, my purple-clad "doctor" was passed out, sprawled carelessly on his back. He still wore his suit and makeup, but the warpaint had smudged in most places, gone in a few. Even in his sleep, his scars resembled his Glasgow smile, even if his lips were relaxed. His hand closest to me occasionally twitched as his chest rose and fell in a rhythmic manner.

A thought crossed my mind. I had never seen the Joker's face without the white, the black, and the red. There had only been one time that I had come close to seeing half of his face. Now, I wanted to _know_. Curiosity led my hand that stretched out until I touched the rough skin of a scar.

The Joker's twitching hand moved, snapping down on my wrist painfully, and abruptly, he sat up, his eyes wide, menacing, as his other hand came up to my mouth, gripping his switchblade tightly.

For a few seconds, we remained in that position; me trapped and frightened, him unfocused and deadly, both breathing heavily. He did a double-take, blinking as he realized who he was holding, and he immediately released me, pushing himself away to the edge of the bed.

Ashamed, the Joker turned away, stepped off the bed, and headed for the door.

Immediately, I jumped off and ran over to him, grabbing his upper arm. He stopped, but didn't turn, forcing me to step in front of him. Even as my eyes met his, I realized that I didn't know what to say. He could have hurt me, when I had only startled him awake. I held no hard feelings against him, no regret for having met him, but I sensed there was a reason why he was walking away from me.

The Joker looked away first, clearing his throat. "Glad you're awake," he said, quietly.

"Yeah…sorry for waking you."

"It's fine."

We fell into an awkward silence, avoiding one another's eyes. My hand still held his arm so I slowly released him, to avoid drawing his attention. Lowering my arm by my side, I looked away, heat rising in my face.

Then, suddenly, the Joker's hand cupped my chin, and his head leaned down almost to match my height. His tongue traced his lips quickly. In a flash, his lips found mine.

It was a tender kiss, one that lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to make me lightheaded. He pulled away, and I let him. Gently, he grabbed my shoulders, guided me to stand aside, and then left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

I still stood there several minutes later, my mind whirling restlessly, trying to determine how I felt, or what I _should_ feel. When I gave up, I still hadn't figured out what my emotions were.

I went into the bathroom with a regular set of clothing – I wasn't going to dress in my outfit – and showered, taking my time, scrubbing myself clean and washing my hair. I shut off the water and toweled off, dressing into my waiting clothes. Combing my hair and drying it, I felt more in control over my whacked emotions. I pulled my hair up and then left the bathroom.

I opened the blinds, blinking hard as the sunlight hit them. It was two in the afternoon; it made me feel guilty because the Joker was probably still on his usual schedule of being a night person, so that he could trade blows with Batman. I looked out, wishing my sight of the city wasn't limited. I haven't particularly seen Gotham in the daylight since I arrived some time ago. I suddenly wanted to explore and see what it was like.

Who'd normally be up at this hour? I _could_ go alone, but I wasn't in the mood. I left the bedroom and went searching for _someone_.

I went out into the main hangar, where I found the Rottweilers running around like crazy, chasing several of toys that were being thrown across the room. I leaned over the catwalk railing to see Dean, sitting in a chair, throwing any toys that the dogs brought over to him.

Smiling, I raced down the stairs and jumped to the bottom, turning to face him.

Dean blinked, and then grinned. "Looks who's _up_," he said, cheerfully. Scout barked from across the hangar, dropped her toy, and raced at top speed at me. I dropped to one knee and caught her before she could knock me down.

"Hi there, girl," I greeted, scratching her ears affectionately. I looked up at Dean approached. "How long was I out?"

"Boss didn't tell you?" Dean asked, curiously.

"Well, um…no."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "Must've slipped his mind. He hasn't exactly _slept_ for several days, since you dropped."

"I was out three days?"

"Yeah." He grinned. "If it makes you feel better, he hasn't exactly _left_ that room…until now, I guess." I looked at him, confused. "He passed by here maybe half an hour, forty-five minutes ago. Locked himself in the van and hasn't been out since." My ears perked up, and I turned my head, scanning the hangar for the black van. "Don't bother looking. He moved it before he locked himself in it." Dean gave me a curious expression. "Mind explaining his behavior."

"I woke him up, by accident. He didn't seem _awake_ when he left the room." Now that I looked back, the Joker _did_ look sleep-deprived, almost looking like an old man with his exhaustion. If I had noticed it, I wouldn't have touched his scars.

To avoid the possibility of Dean asking more questions, I averted my attention to Scout, trying to stop her from licking my face.

"So how do you feel?" Dean asked.

"Better." I thought for a moment. "I must have been delirious. I don't quite remember what happened the past couple days."

"Do you even know about you dropping?"

I shuddered. "Yeah…not something I want to repeat." Then, my lips formed a frown. "And I blame it on the Joker."

"Don't," Dean said, "It wasn't _his_ idea."

I blinked and then glared at him. "What do _you_ know of what happened?"

"I remember seeing the Joker carrying you to the Volvo. Peter and Dave were with him. Peter looked agitated, talking so fast that I've surprised that the boss under-_stood_ him. After he had put you into the car, the Joker came over to me and told me to stay here and keep an eye on the clock. He looked like he was edge, like he knew something was going to happen that he wouldn't be able to stop. He's like that, and when he acts the way he did, he's _always_ been right, sorta like he can predict the future without knowing it."

"He _has_ no special ability."

"But he's intelligent, cunning, a _genius_ with almost _everything_." Dean smirked. "He wires up his own explosions, did you know that?"

"What do I care?" I roared, with a sudden burst of anger. "The man forgot that my greatest fear is hanging over _water_. I had a _panic attack_, and if he hadn't _been_ there, I wouldn't be _alive_ right now." I stood up, turning my head away. "At least he had the decency to stay close at hand."

"Harsh."

"Oh, shut up." I started to walk away, but Dean caught my arm, stopping me.

"You know, I have to take the dogs out for a walk. You'll welcome to come if you want."

"Thanks, but no thanks, Dean." I suddenly didn't want to be near anyone; I was feeling really mean. I wanted to _hurt_ somebody, and I had a particularly _somebody_ in mind.

Scout grabbed my hand with her mouth. I stopped and sighed, turning to pull my hand free. "Go for a walk, Scout, I'll still be around when you get back." Scout bumped her head against my chest, whining. I patted her head and moved away, shadowing to avoid her trying to grab me again.

I returned to the bedroom I shared with the Joker and took my duffel bag out from underneath the bed. I hadn't bothered with unpacking it since who knew when the Joker might decide to move again. I found my wallet and pulled out a number of bills before chucking it back into the bag. I even found my criminal outfit and threw it into a separate bag, taking whatever clothing the Joker had left around too. Taking my car keys and _Berry Tucker_ from the nightstand, I returned to the hangar.

Dean had just gotten the dogs on their leashes when I returned. "Where you going?" he asked.

"For a drive," I replied. "Don't know when I'll be back, but you can reach me by my cell, _only_ if it's an emergency."

"Anything related to the boss is an emergency."

"Use your judgment then," I told him, turning the key in the ignition and bringing my Toyota to life. Dean pushed the open button off to the side, opening the hangar door for me as I backed out. I couldn't help but take a deep breath, particularly glowing in the sunlight.

I drove around the city, trying to find a Laundromat. I didn't know if the Joker ever had his clothing washed in the past month, but I hadn't questioned it. If I was close enough, I'd only notice how he smelled good, clean. He's wore different versions of his hexagonal shirt, all light blue, but I had found a number of vests, pants, and shirts in his dresser. And since I was washing my own outfit, why not take some of his along?

I located the Laundromat, and went in, finding a washing machine that was particularly hidden around a corner so that no one else would see exactly what I had. It seemed to me like places in Gotham were set up for privacy, thus allowing more possibilities of criminal activities. _What do I care?_ I thought as I sat down to read my book.

The load was only halfway through when I sensed someone watching me. It began as a couple casual glances, but it had become intense within the past few minutes. Someone was here, who knew me, or possibility didn't but thought I was someone they knew.

In situations like this, you'd look up from your book and casually scan the room, paying more attention to the door like you're waiting for someone. Something inside was telling me not to do that, which was the exact opposite of my instincts. I tried to keep myself from moving too much, like someone who was aware they were being watched, and focused myself to focus at my book, other senses toned in on my surroundings.

Finally, the load beeped to announce it was done. I set my book aside and grabbed the clean clothing, shoving them in my bag quickly. After taking my book, I headed swiftly out of the Laundromat, sensing someone approaching.

I didn't head for my car, as I had heard the door of the Laundromat open a few seconds after I closed it. Hoping to avoid attention, I flipped open my cell phone, pretending that it was a friend of mine, talking one-way. Luckily, Gotham was a city, and lots of people walked to everything, almost. I blended in well, but I still had the fear that whoever was after me was still on my tail.

I tried not to be obvious of where I was going. I was on a recognizable street, and I headed in a random direction, still pretending to talk on my phone.

Suddenly, my cell actually _rang_. I quickly answered it, hoping nobody was really paying attention. "Yeah?"

"_Where are you?"_ It was the Joker.

"Shopping," I replied, dryly. I couldn't make out how he was feeling; he was keeping his emotions out of his tone.

"_Where?"_ he demanded.

I looked around, finding a street sign. "Finger Street."

"_Near Wayne Enterprises?"_

"Yeah."

"_Stay there."_ It almost sounded like he was alarmed.

"Um, can't."

"_Why?"_

I tried to look casual as I searched among the crowd of people. "Unwanted company."

"_Someone's _following_ you? Who?"_

"I'm trying to figure that out." I checked both ways before crossing the street, aware that there were crazy drivers in cities, worse in Gotham.

"_Shadow, is there a place that you could try to meet up?"_ It was Dean now, and it made me wonder why the Joker had passed the phone over. I asked Dean. _"He's coming to get you. Something's turned up, something he's sure of, and doesn't like."_

"What?"

"_He told me not to tell you. Just get away from where you are. Try to shake off whoever's following you. Where are you headed?"_

"Hyde Park."

"_Okay, I'll tell him. Don't be surprised when you see him. You should have sense enough not to question him when he arrives."_

"He's not coming in his suit, is he?"

"_Just _trust_ him, Shadow."_ And Dean hung up.

I put my cell away, wishing I knew what was going on. Someone on my tail, and the Joker found out. Was it _Hunter_, coming to kill me at least? If it was, I was positive that the Joker would kill him before Hunter laid a _finger_ on me, but that was _also_ assuming that the Joker arrived in time.

I headed toward Hyde Park, wandering through the streets but keeping a sharp eye out. I was relying on my shadow sense to know if my stalker was still on my tail, and he seemed to be having an easy time keeping up with me. He hadn't approached me yet, but I assumed he was waiting for me to stop somewhere. I avoided situations, like stopping at a corner to cross the street, as much as I could, usually running across when I didn't see a lot of cars.

However, when I turned a corner, I stopped, seeing two men purposely standing next to one another, one with a hand to his ear like he was talking into a Bluetooth. When they spotted me, one of them grinned and elbowed the other talking. They headed toward me.

I waited until they were close and then dived out into traffic, nearly getting hit by a moving car. The two men chased me, as I ducked around several cars before reaching the other side of the street. Two more men were waiting for me, nearly catching me, but I hit one with my open palm under the chin, knocking his head back. The second one grabbed the bag of clothing I had. I kicked him off and broke into a run, heading straight for Hyde Park.

A motorcyclist almost hit me as I ran out into the street again. I stopped in my tracks in front of him, seeing a familiar green vest under a biker jacket. He revved the motorcycle, and I immediately climbed on behind him, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist.

The motorcycle jumped forward, the four men following me stopping just in time to avoid hitting it.

We rode down the street, ignoring red lights and cars. The motorcyclist steered expertly through the traffic, weaving in and out of the lines. Cars honked at us as we rode by. We flew past a police car waiting by the side, and the siren flicked on.

The motorcyclist turned sharply, mounting the curb. People screamed and jumped out of the way as we drove by. We slipped out of sight, disappearing into an alleyway; the police car driving right past.

The motorcyclist killed the engine as I slipped off the bike. I turned as he pulled off his helmet and glared at me with his hard brown eyes. "As if you haven't given me _enough_ trouble," the Joker growled, his face menacing with the faded makeup and held back anger.

"I believe _you're_ the one who _started_ it," I said, matching his cold tone. "If you hadn't ignored me-."

"If you hadn't _stopped_ me from seeing Batman in the _first_ place-!"

"Don't blame it on me," I snapped. "If anything, we should both claim faulty, and leave it at that." I crossed my arms and added, "Or you could just _kill_ me and I won't be a _problem_ anymore."

He jumped off the motorcycle and shoved me against the alley wall. The impact jarred my back, but I gritted my teeth against the pain and matched his hard gaze. "What makes you _think_ I'd kill you?" he demanded, angrily. "I've done nothing but…but…" He growled as he turned around, storming over to the motorcycle. "You're un-_grate_-ful," he told me, darkly.

"Don't give me that," I grunted, heading out of the alley.

"Get. Back. _Here_." I turned around and glared at him. He held out another helmet, his eyes cold. "Put. It. On." He had no patience for me and my attitude. Rather than test him, I stormed over and took the helmet, shoving it down on my head and adjusting the straps. The Joker had replaced his and turned the engine back on. I hardly had enough time to hold onto him before the motorcycle kicked ahead.

We returned to the warehouse where Dean, Peter, and the Rottweilers waited. The moment the Joker killed the engine, Peter hurried over.

"You okay, boss?" he asked, worriedly.

The Joker simply ignored him, acknowledging him long enough to throw his helmet and the biker jacket at him before heading up the metal stairs. I grunted as I handed my helmet to Dean.

"_Obviously_ he needs to get some sleep," I growled.

Dean shrugged. "I told you he hasn't slept since it happened."

"So I should _feel_ bad for the guy?" I snorted. "Fat chance." I moved for the open door, but Dean stopped me. "Don't you even _start_ with me, Dean."

"Your temper is just as bad as his," Dean sighed, shaking his head. He narrowed his eyes, making himself look as angry as I felt. "I'll get your car. _You_ deal with the Joker."

I frowned. "I don't have a choice in the matter, _do_ I?"

"You can let _Peter_ deal with him." Dean's mouth twitched, obviously trying to keep from smiling. I glanced at Peter to see that he was gone. "He followed him up. He deserves a beating, which the Joker will _give_ him if that's who he's after. Go enjoy yourself." He couldn't hold back the smirk, but he turned away to leave.

"Wait, Dean," I called after him. He turned, and I threw my car keys at him. "You might need these, unless you want to explain to the police why you're stealing a car in board daylight." Dean grinned and left.

I did as Dean told me to, even though I was reluctant. I had a good sense of timing as I walked around the corner, seeing the Joker shove Peter away from him.

Peter tried to say something, but the Joker jumped at him, punching him in the face, knocking him down to the ground. Energy burst from his lean frame as he pounded Peter, punching and kicking him to the point that the man was bruised and crying for mercy. The Joker pulled back his last punch and actually knelt by the sobbing man, patting his cheek.

"There, there, Peter," he whispered, softly, "I won't hurt you anymore." The Joker placed his knife in the man's mouth, pulling his cheek taut. "Cheer up, Peter, I wanna see you _smile_."

Peter choked on his tears, squeezing his eyes shut, preparing himself.

"_No_, Peter!" the Joker yelled, "I said to _cheer up_!" He turned the knife into the taut cheek, cutting into the skin at the corner of Peter's mouth. The Joker held his blade steady, simply watching the man whimper in pain.

He remained that way, watching Peter with cold, emotionless eyes, waiting for Peter to completely breakdown. Peter met his gaze, shaking slightly. The Joker's eyes narrowed as he took his switchblade out of Peter's mouth.

"Are you ah-_fraid_, Peter?" No response for a few seconds, and then Peter shook his head. The Joker smacked him hard, making Peter wince painfully. "You _should_ be scared, Peter. But-ah, I suppose you don't _understand_ me _well_ enough right now."

"I understand you," Peter said, confidently, but the Joker smacked him again.

The Joker flicked his switchblade in his hand, bringing it dangerously close to Peter's face. He clicked it closed and then snapped it open, swiping it down on Peter's cheek. The man cried out in pain as the Joker cut a line down his cheek, one that bled freely.

A real grin stretched on the Joker's lips. He let his tongue slide over his lower lip, wetting it. "Your _fate_ rests in my hands, Peter," he told him. "_Next_ time you _try_ anything against Shadow…" He slid his knife along his throat, mocking what would happen. Peter's eyes widened, and the Joker laughed, a rumble emanating from his chest.

He bounced to his feet and sauntered down the hallway, heading in my direction. I ducked around the corner before he saw me, but he didn't stop as he too turned the corner. He passed me, but at the same time, reached out and grabbed my wrist, pulling me after him. I opened my mouth to protest, but the Joker turned sharply and slapped a hand over my mouth, silencing me.

He continued laughing, his eyes twinkling mysteriously, as he pulled me along behind him. I followed him, seeing there was no escape from him. The Joker's laughter eased into soft giggles as we left Peter far behind. The Joker brought me to the Recreation Room where Shaun, Dave, and Cory were.

"Anyone have _hard feelings_ towards Peter?" the Joker asked, excitedly. The three guys looked at one another, confused. "C'mon, don't be _shy_," the Joker giggled. "I wanna _know_."

Slowly, the three guys' hands lifted in the air, like they were in school. They looked ashamed for revealing the truth, but the Joker simply burst into a fit of giggles. I couldn't give them a comforting look, since even _I_ couldn't read the Joker's mind.

Abruptly, the Joker forced back his laughter, and said, "Think about what Peter has done to you, that's given you reason to have those hard feelings, and for fifteen grand, I want you to go and _act_ upon those feelings."

The guys hesitated, staring at him confused, like they couldn't believe what he was saying. The Joker gave them a look and said, "Going once…going _twice_…" All three guys jumped up and hurried for the door. The Joker laughed as he pulled me away from the stampede. "Close the door be-_hind_ you," the Joker yelled, cheerfully.

The moment Cory closed the door, I realized what the Joker wanted; he wanted me _alone_, and he _got_ it.

The Joker's hold on me changed, an arm wrapping around my waist, his fingers digging into my side as his other one took one of mine, entwining his fingers with mine. I met his eyes hesitantly as the Joker grinned, amused.

"You know how to dance?" he asked.

"Um, yeah…" I said, unsure of what he was planning.

"Great!" he particularly screamed, excitedly. "Let's _dance_!"

He twirled me about the room rapidly, expertly leading me around the obstacles within the area. I was stiff as he threw me around, scared half to death that he was going to slam me against something. I tried to catch his attention, but it seemed like it was elsewhere as he hummed some tune I couldn't name. The tune had a good dancing rhythm so I supposed he was dancing to _something_.

Finally, I let myself relax, following his lead around the couches and the wooden chairs. The Joker's humming sped up, and so did we in our twirling. Almost as fast as it had quickened, our pace slowed, and we simply swayed from side to side, turning in a slow circle.

The Joker cleared his throat, waiting, and I finally raised my gaze to his. "Wondering why I got you alone?" he asked, calmly.

"Wondering a _lot_ of things," I said, narrowing my eyes. I tried to push away from him, but he tightened his hold on me, wrapping his other arm around my waist too.

"I don't want there to be any hard feelings between us, Shadow," the Joker said, honestly. "I haven't exactly _slept_ in the past three days. I'm sorta…" He shrugged. "Messed up, shall we say?"

"That's not something _new_," I growled.

We stopped dancing, and the Joker glared down at me. "Don't. In-_tim_-idate. Me," he growled, menacingly. Then, he twirled me away from him and then back. I caught his free hand, and he started the vicious dance again. It took some effort, but I managed to keep up with his pace and he eventually slowed, frustrated.

"Listen, _Sha_-dow," he said, in a dangerous tone. "I'm _trying_ to make things _bet_-ter, but if you keep _pushing_ me in the _wrong direction_-."

"_Fine_," I grunted, mimicking his tone. "Try again, and _explain_."

The Joker growled, impatiently. He stopped dancing, and I arched an eyebrow. Then, abruptly, he shoved me into the wall by the dart board, nearly hitting my head on it. "_Why_ should I _bother_?" he asked. "Explaining won't do _anything_."

"I'm a rational person," I argued. "You explain it, and I'll try to get it."

The Joker's hands slammed against the wall on either side of my head, causing the dart board to shake violently on its support nail. "_Trying_ doesn't _cut it_!" he yelled, furiously.

Even though I was scared by his fury, I stood my ground. "Take a _chill_ pill, Joker. _Honestly_."

He seemed taken aback, leaning back, blinking hard. I could tell by the dryness of his eyes that he was exhausted. If there wasn't any black mascara around his eyes, I'd be able to see the dark circles.

"Listen," I said gently, feeling empathy show its face. "Go get some rest. I'll talk to you when you're more…_alive_."

He blinked again, his fury gone, leaving him confused and tired. Then, his scarred mouth slowly formed a smile. He leaned his face closer to mine, his raw breath blowing on me. His tongue slid over his lips as his eyes gazed into mine.

I felt my heart beating hard in my chest, as my breath caught in my throat. My body tensed as his lips touched mine, but as his hands slowly grasped my face, I found myself dropping my guard. I raised my hands and slid them into his green curls, holding him tightly.

Even as we kissed, my mind raced. Was this really what I wanted all this time? I had been in love before…but it hadn't ended well. My heart had been broken and torn out of my chest. For years, I didn't think I could survive, but I made it, believing that never again, I would _love_ someone. The Joker was the _last_ man I would have chosen, but it made sense to me. I couldn't love any other man. He was the last one that I hadn't tried.

Now, seeing that he obviously had feelings for me, it seemed that even though I had resisted him for so long, I had indeed begun to have feelings for him in return.

The Joker's lips traced along my jaw, planting kisses up to my ear, but I suddenly pulled away, hitting my head against the wall. The sound alarmed him, and he stopped, pulling back and looking at me with confusion and hurt.

I didn't look at him, my mouth twitching. "I can't, Joker," I said, trying hard to control my breathing as my chest heaved. "I just can't."

The Joker scoffed, turning my face so that I had to look at him. "Sometimes you're a good liar, Shadow," he said, softly, "But _some_-times…you're as bad as a little kid trying to hide the fact they had been caught with their hand _in_ the cookie jar." He grinned and leaned in, kissing me once before pulling away and heading for the door.

"Wait," I said, startled, and he stopped. "Where are you going?"

The Joker looked at me and grinned. "I'm _exhausted_, Shadow. At this point, I could drop on the floor and sleep through the rest of the day and through the night."

I shook my head. "I doubt through the night," I said, smiling.

He laughed. "Maybe you're right, but…" He shrugged. "I'm unpredictable."

I giggled. "So true." I waved at him, making him smirk. "Nighty night, Joker."

"Do I _have_ to remind you that I _prefer_ 'Mister J'?" he asked, glaring at me, but his tone was light, frivolous.

"Mist-_ah_ J, go to _bed_!"

"Yes, _Mother_." He laughed and opened the door. "I think I can trust you," he giggled. "I'm leaving you in charge. If you need anything, go to Dean. I don't want to be bothered."

"Will do, Captain, _sir_," I said, straightening and putting my hand to my forehead like a soldier. That only made the Joker laugh harder as he left the room.

* * *

**Lordlink: Another difficult chapter to write, but I like the outcome. And I hope you all did too. I know some of you were just **_**waiting**_** for when the Joker and Shadow actually reveal their feelings for one another – not to each other **_**yet**_**, since Shadow's too stubborn – but this was that chapter. And don't worry about who was stalking Shadow, that person hasn't liked her at all. Any guesses?**


	27. Intensity

The Joker slept for _exactly_ twenty-four hours. He had gone to bed at 3:26 PM and woke up at that _same_ time the next day. Since the Joker had placed me in charge, I was the one who had to pay Dave, Shaun, and Cory for acting on their feelings towards Peter. Luckily Dean had been close by so I wasn't badly outnumbered.

"He owes us each fifteen grand," Shaun snarled, angrily. When he had first come to me, I had faked confusion, trying to remember what the Joker had said – since I _had_ been there when the Joker gave his promise. Shaun, although surprisingly confident that he could outsmart me because I was a woman, had kept his cool for the first few minutes, but had lost it soon after.

"So confident that _that's_ how much you're going to get," I replied, smirking. Dean looked at me, confused; he had started counting bills. "I _believe_ he said 'fifteen grand', not 'fifteen grand _each_'." I leaned back in my chair. "Dean, they get five grand each."

"No _wonder_ he put you in charge," Dean murmured behind my back. "You're just _like_ him."

I was tempted to be me and turn on him, slap him or yell at him, but since he thought I was the Joker, I was going have fun with it. "_Un_-like the boss, I'll give you guys another chance, this time you can get _thirty_ grand _each_, _if_…you agree that if you lose, you forfeit your five grand."

Shaun and Dave, obviously working for the Joker _just_ for the money, were for it, but Cory backed down, saying that five grand was enough for him. I didn't pressure him, because I liked him more than Shaun and Dave combined. _And_ I wanted to be mean to the other men, simply because of their stupidity for agreeing to something before they knew what they had to do.

"I challenge you two to an armwrestling match," I stated. Both of them grinned, believing they had this one. Dean and Cory gave me dumbfounded looks. "To make it more _fun_," I said, "Shaun gets my left arm while Dave gets my right."

Dave chuckled, a dumb laugh that sounded more like choking. Shaun coughed and asked, "Are you serious, Shadow?"

"_No_, I'm just playing with your head, Shaun," I said, sarcastically. "Yes, I'm serious."

"You're going to lose," Shaun said. "You can just forfeit and we'll take the money."

"No, I'm serious about this, Shaun. You _and_ Dave, at the _same time_."

He shrugged and sat down across from me. Dave followed suite, and I clasped their hands firmly. I spread the two enough so that when I won, I wouldn't knock hands. "Dean, tell us when to start," I said.

"I'm not sure this is a good-."

"Just. _Do_. It!" I growled.

"Go," Dean said.

Shaun and Dave's arms tightened as their muscles strained, but it was to no avail. Of course, I was cheating, but what did it matter if these two were stupid enough to agree to something before they knew what they were doing? My shadow state had stronger muscles – barely matched the Joker's – but even taking Shaun and Dave at the same time was _nothing_. I watched them struggle, break up a sweat, and then added a bit more strength, slamming their hands down on the table.

Shaun hollered in pain and left, whimpering like a dog with his tail between his legs, but Dave set up his arm again, a determined look on his dumb face. I humored him and clasped his hand. He started before Dean called "start", and I immediately smacked his hand down on the table, to punish him for cheating.

I grinned; I'm a proven hypocrite.

Dave made several attempts, and I went along with it, tormenting him by letting him slowly work me down before I turned the tables around completely. I even started with him losing, letting him get close to winning, and then I turn it on him.

If the Joker could've seen me, he'd be laughing hysterically at the time, but later, would criticize me for being so mean to his boys. Guess where the practice of being a hypocrite _came_ from.

Dave gave in, and wandered off, looking depressed. Cory tried asking how I did it, but Dean simply handed him the total fifteen grand for being a smart guy.

Afterwards, Dean left, claiming that the Joker had given him an assignment to get done while the clown was unconscious and "oblivious to the world". This left me with too much time on my hands so I took the Joker's motorcycle and went for a ride, aborting that idea when I heard the call of cards at The Stacked Deck nightclub. Why it was open during the day, I wouldn't know, but it was so I took advantage of that.

I had fun, for the many hours I was at the nightclub. I wasn't a drinker so I got high on the sugar load of various sodas that I combined to make a "suicide soda". By nightfall, I was leading all the poker games, playing against the most _intense_ players where it was a game to play poker _and_ to catch the others cheating. Boy, it was fun!

As I was about to leave, I saw Shaun sitting at the bar, throwing glares at me over his shoulder while he drank a beer. Oh, boy! Competition. I changed direction and slipped onto the bar stool next to him. He ignored me, chugging his beer; I noticed the five _empty_ bottles near him.

"What would you have done with five grand, _anyway_?" I asked him, so high on sugar that I felt like intimidating him. "Spend it here, drinking beer and losing to better poker players? Or paying prostitutes?" He scowled, and I grinned. "You _chose_ to join the boss; _this_ is the life you live."

"I used to be top dog," he growled.

"Of what? Don't say the city, but the _Mob_ had it before the clown did."

"If someone wanted information, I had it. Now…" He grudgingly drained the rest of his beer before looking me straight in the eyes. I could tell that he was drunk by the redness in his eyes. "You make enemies faster than you make friends, Shadow," he growled.

"We weren't ever friends, Shaun, so I could care less," I told him. "I was recruited before _you_ were, so don't complain to me, or anyone else for that matter." I smiled and placed a ten-dollar bill down on the counter before leaving the nightclub.

As I drove back to the warehouse, I passed some police cars – speeding, of course – so I had an adrenaline rush trying to get them off my tail before I returned. By then, a headache pounded in the back of my neck and behind my eyes, leaning more on my left. It was close to two in the morning so I searched for some Tylenol, took two, and then crept into the Joker's bedroom, collapsing on my side of the bed and falling into a dreamless sleep.

I awoke to the door closing. Feeling sick from the sugar-high, I went into the bathroom to splash water on my face. I felt more refreshed but had to use mouthwash to get rid of the nasty remains of sugar residing in my mouth. My reflection wasn't good-looking; my eyes were blurry and I looked like I was high on drugs. The best I could do was to comb my hair, rub my eyes with water, and then leave to find the Joker – who had obviously been the one who had awoken me with the door.

After searching most of the warehouse, I located the Joker in the Rec Room, where he was throwing darts at the dart board while eating a piece of sausage pizza. The moment I walked in, he greeted me cheerfully. "So, Drugged Beauty's finally woken _up_!" he exclaimed.

"It was just Tylenol," I argued, half-heartedly as I walked around him to sit down on the couch. I noticed a paper plate on the coffee table with two slices of sausage pizza.

"I hope you like…sausage," the Joker said, between bites as he chewed on his slice. "There was _originally_ three slices, but-ah…I'm a guy and guys can't _resist_ the call of food."

"That's fine. I can't _eat_ three slices after I just woke up." I took the plate and got myself comfortable before I started eating.

The Joker giggled, and I looked at him, confused, chewing on a bit of pizza. He held only the crust of his slice, and after a wink in my direction, he shoved the _entire thing_ into his mouth.

I merely rolled my eyes and said, "There's _no doubt_ in my mind that you're a guy." He laughed at that, nearly choking on his crust, and threw his last dart before climbing onto the other end of the couch.

"So, heard you had some _fun_ with my boys while I was…ah, _resting_," he began, after swallowing his _hopefully_ chewed-up pizza crust. I'd hate to have to use the Heimlich maneuver on him, especially after he had already performed CPR on me – I _hated_ being in debt with someone.

"Did Dean tell you?" I asked before I took another bite.

"No…but I had the feeling that you'd _do_ something to _annoy_ them." He looked at me and smirked, pulling his legs up onto the couch in Indian-style. "That _is_ why I left you in charge, after all."

"Shaun and Dave didn't understand your 'fifteen grand' payment."

The Joker snorted. "What? Fifteen grand for each?"

"No," I said, and then smirked, thinking back on the occasion.

Seeing that I was amused by the memory, the Joker clapped his hands together gleefully as he said, "Good! She's got a _story_ to tell! I _love_ good stories! Es-_pec _-ically funny ones!"

"Scenario: Shaun, Dave, and Cory come to me – since I'm in charge – to get their payment. Shaun acts as the headman, believing he can win me over with the money. I act totally confused for several minutes until he _snaps_." I snapped my fingers, for empathizing purposes. "Finally, he tells me that the boss – _you_ – owes him and the others fifteen grand each." I gave a mocking laugh, remembering Shaun's expression. "He didn't like my answer to that."

"What did you tell him?" the Joker asked, leaning in with excitement.

"I told him that you didn't say that they get fifteen grand _each_, just that the price was fifteen grand. So I told Dean to pay them five grand each."

The Joker clapped his hands, laughing insanely with amusement. "Oh! I _love_ it! I wasn't even _thinking_ that as I said that, but oh, it would _definitely_ have been something that would come to mind when they came for the payment-ah." He giggled for a few seconds before saying, "Shadow, I'm _so_ glad I put you in charge, rather than Dean."

"You had Dean off doing something else, anyway," I told him.

The Joker waved his hand dismissively, clearly trying to make me push that thought aside. "I also heard about some kind of _contest_, after _that_." I gave him a suspicious look as I started to eat my second pizza slice. The Joker merely grinned and said, "I have my ways, Shadow."

I shrugged, not caring. "I told Shaun and Dave that they could redeem themselves by beating me in an armwrestle, at the same time."

"The _same time?_!" The Joker sounded shocked.

I gave another careless shrug. "I cheated, obviously. Now, Shaun hates me, and Dave's a broken pup."

"I _saw_ that." I took a large bite out of my pizza and chewed it, staring at the dart board. "So, after that, what did you do?"

"Went out. Played some poker. Got high on sugar." I shrugged. "Came back with a caffeine headache. Took some Tylenol and went to bed." Then, I turned to face him, seeing that he was registering what I had said. "How long have you been up, out of curiosity?"

He jerked his head up with an absent-minded, "Hm?" I rolled my eyes and took another bite of pizza, waiting for it to click. He blinked and then stood up, heading for the dart board as he said, "Oh, about four, five hours." I finished off my greasy meal as the Joker collected all the darts and headed back to where he had been standing prior.

I watched him silently as he threw the darts, hardly giving himself time to aim before he chucked them at the board. My mind wandered, listening to the steady sound of the darts hitting the board, and for a moment, I wondered if I had fallen into a dose, which I really believe I did. When I sat myself upright, I looked over at the dart board, seeing a piece of paper stuck to it by three darts.

I frowned slightly, trying to remember if it had been there before, and when I realized that it hadn't been, I stood up slowly, while curiously asking, "What's the paper?"

The Joker chucked a dart at my head, but I ducked, subconsciously anticipating such a move. "Go _look_ at it," he growled, "And while you're at it, get me the darts." I turned to give him a look, but realized that he was frustrated. With what, I couldn't think of.

"You're so lazy," I said playfully, hoping humor would help him _chill_ as I took out the dart by my head. He stood there with his hunched shoulders, his eyes narrowed, throwing a glare in my direction. "Keep doing that and it'll be your permanent expression."

"_Sha_-dow," he drawled, clearly irritated.

"I'm _on_ it!" I walked over to the board, pulling out the darts and retrieving the piece of paper. "An invitation?" I remarked as I wandered back to him. "Not _bad_ for a guy like you to be invited to a party."

"I _wasn't_," the Joker snapped, snatching the darts out of my hand. I just shrugged and plopped myself down on my couch, getting comfortable before reading the paper. It read: _'Testimonial in honor of Police Commissioner James Gordon, Tuesday night at the Gotham Peregrinators Club. A Police Benefit and Fundraiser.'_

"Sounds formal," I remarked.

"It _is_ formal." The Joker threw a dart and almost hit the bull's eye.

I looked up to see a frown on his face – not much of one since his scars permitted very little of it to show. "What's your problem? Woke up on the wrong side of the bed?"

"I _stayed_ on my side. _You're_ the one who moved."

"It's an expression, Joker," I sighed. "Something's bothering you. You weren't like this awhile ago."

"Thank-you, Captain Obvious." He chucked another dart at the board, missing it completely and getting it stuck in the wall. Cursing, he threw a second, only to have that one miss too.

I watched him, waiting as he grew more frustrated and ended up throwing the remainder of the darts at the board, all at the same time. One stuck into the wall, but the rest of them hit the board.

The Joker growled and then stalked over, before stopping and glaring at me over his shoulder. "C'mon, I'm _wait_-ing."

"For what?" I asked, wide-eyed.

"For some smart-mouth comment."

"Nuh-uh, I don't have a death wish," I said, shaking my head. That retrieved a slight twitch of his mouth as he fought to keep from smiling. "Who knows with you? Your mood-swings are dangerous. I'm not gonna risk my life to make you more frustrated."

"Who said I _was_?" He turned and sauntered toward me.

I rolled my eyes. "Great, I'm gonna die. See? Here I am, screaming at the top of my lungs for help, trying to run away." It was only sarcasm; I didn't move.

The Joker lunged, smashing into me and knocking me down on my side. I pushed him off me, and he giggled, moving away. His mood swung from frustration to eager excitement.

"I'm not gonna _kill_ you," he said, excitedly, "We've got-ah a _job_ to do." He grabbed my hand, yanking me off the couch, and broke into a run out of the room, pulling me after him. He brought me to our shared bedroom and stopped just inside. "I wonder…" He glanced at me, narrowing his eyes, chewing on the inside of his eyes in thought, and then he shook his head. "Nah…it wouldn't work."

"What wouldn't work?" I asked as he nearly shoved me into the bathroom.

The Joker stood in the doorway, giving me a curious look. "If I asked you to get dressed _up_…would you do it?"

"Like…in a dress? And high heels?"

"A bit of jewelry, some _normal_ makeup maybe," he added.

I glared at him. "No," I said, firmly.

"That's what I _thought_." He tossed the bag that held my outfit. "Get dressed."

He sounded disappointed that I had refused him the chance to get me into a dress. Despite how I _hated_ wearing fancy items, I felt a curious want to wear one just to satisfy him.

_No, Shadow, down!_ I yelled at myself as I closed the door. My emotions were all in an uproar over him, I wasn't going to let them have their way. Like he said, we had _work_ to do.

When I opened the door, he was waiting with the tube of purple facepaint. I gasped as the cold paint touched my face, but I obediently shut my eyes and allowed the Joker to apply my purple painted eyemask. Now that I think of it, whenever it needed to be applied or reapplied, he _never_ let me do it myself; _he_ always had to do it.

He finished it off and threw the tube onto the bathroom counter, reaching over and washing his hands quickly, drying them and then pulling on his leather gloves. Then, he held my hand again and was particularly dragging me out of the bedroom and down the hall.

It amazed me how excited he was to be _doing_ something. The evidence was all around him, the twinkle in his eyes, the lightness in his bouncy step, and the eager energy bursting from his lean frame. He called himself a dog who chased cars with no idea of what to do with them once he caught them. I could picture him as that, but it seemed more like he was a hyperactive four-year-old. Maybe the Joker had a childish side that he rarely showed? The thought made me smile.

"Boys!" he shouted at the top of his lungs as we came out onto the catwalk. "Two minutes tops and I ex-_pect_ you all to be _out_ here!" The Joker continued to hold my hand as he raced down the stairs, me nearly falling head-over-heels after him. We reached the silver Volvo, and I realized too late that the Joker wasn't going to slow down.

The Joker threw me first, and let go of my hand. A second before contact, I shadowed, appearing on the opposite side of the Volvo and tripping over my own feet. I cried out as I fell to the ground, glad for the leather gloves that protected my hands from scraps.

The Joker's laughter reached my ears a split second later, and I raised myself on my arms, glaring at him over my shoulder. He was doubled over, his hands on his knees as he was overcome by his uncontrollable giggles.

"Jerk," I growled as I climbed to my feet and dusting myself off. I leaned against the car door, my arms across my chest, waiting for the Joker to regain his composure. Finally, after a minute, he straightened, wiping his tears with the palm of his hand.

"_Price_-less," he spat out the last of his giggles.

I gave him a cold look, my eyes narrowed. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm only here because I amuse you."

"You _do_," the Joker said, his eyes wide with surprise.

I arched an eyebrow. "Is that the _only_ reason?" He shrugged casually as he stepped next to me, wrapping his arm around my waist. I stiffened as he looked at me, grinning widely, as he squeezed my side with his hand. "You had better _stop_ that," I warned him in a low tone.

"Why?" he asked, confidently. "I've claimed you al-_ready_."

"Hands off, _Joker_."

He growled and pressed me against the Volvo, his face uncomfortably close to mine. I flinched, unsure if he was angry. His brown eyes were about all I could see with him so close, and even they didn't show the rage I thought I sensed from him. The Joker's breath blew in my face and over my neck, causing my skin to crawl, but not in revulsion.

He leaned in, and I turned my head away, making him chuckle softly. His gloved hand left my waist, sliding up along my side, as he breathed on my neck. I remained still, despite the conflicting emotions swirling inside me, trying to ignore the distracting movement of his hand along my side.

I didn't like how he thought he _claimed_ me, like I was his prize, and I didn't like how he thought he could do whatever he wanted with me. I've been a hardened criminal for too long to allow some guy to do this. The only thing was the contradictory feeling that I felt, the sense of curiosity that I felt. Did the Joker merely think of me as a prize, his partner-in-crime, or was he looking for something _else_ other than being partners?

Hadn't I come to realize _before_ this that the Joker and I had feelings for one another, even if I had resisted him so many times?

I leaned my head back a bit, resting it against the Volvo, seeing his tongue as it slid out over his lower lip slowly. His hand had stopped wandering, after returning to my waist. He shifted a foot forward, bringing his body closer to mine. For some reason, I couldn't make eye contact with him, feeling a strange sensation slither through me.

His free hand moved, coming to rest on my cheek, and I saw him tilt his head as he leaned in. My heart pounded in my chest, _aching_. Despite my nature to resist, I couldn't keep my thoughts clear of him, focused on resisting. For once, I wished, as he came closer, that I could drop my guard and let him in.

Then, there were loud barks and the approach of heavy footsteps that were distant but grew louder in volume as they came closer. My eyes wandered past the Joker's face, and I saw eight guys – I recognized Peter, Dave, Shaun, and Cory, but not the others – coming onto the catwalk, from the way the Joker and I had come. I caught sight of Dean holding the leashes to the three Rottweilers, Scout, Buddy, and Prince, having come from the hidden basement room where the dogs were kept.

The Joker growled irritably, and stepped away from me, the slump of his shoulders screaming his reluctance. I felt so reluctant to let him step away, but my nature's resistance came up, barring my feelings for him back under control. My mind raced for rational explanations for my actions, even as it registered how fast and how _hard_ my heart was pounding. As the Joker turned to face his guys, I turned towards the car, one hand on the car and the other over my chest, trying to steady my rapid breathing.

"Good, you got the dogs, Bleak," the Joker commented. He explained the proceedings to his men, ordering them to get into the black van. I shuddered as the Joker told all but one of his guys to get into the van, leaving the short guy – whose name I missed – to drive the Volvo. I knocked my head against the car painfully; the Joker had _purposely_ stuck me with him, alone, not even the _dogs_ were coming in the Volvo with us.

I lifted my head and caught Dean's look. He looked worried, but I gave him a small smile and a slight wave. He didn't look convinced by my behavior, but he climbed into the back of the van anyway. After him came Peter, who threw me a dark glare before getting in and slamming the van door closed behind him.

I snorted. What did _I_ care what Peter thought of me? So the boss didn't pay so much attention to him; I blamed it on the possibility of Peter having some mental illness that made him so attached to the Joker. If it was _attention_ Peter needed, then he could look _elsewhere_, I thought rebelliously.

"In the car, Shadow," the Joker ordered, cutting into my thoughts. I blinked and moved aside so he could open the backdoor for me. Without a word, I stepped in and then seeing that he was going to follow me in, shifted over to the other end of the backseat. In the driver's seat, the short guy climbed in automatically adjusting the seat and side mirrors. The Volvo pulled out before the black van, and the nameless driver started out slow, giving the driver of the van time to catch up.

After a minute's silence, the Joker said, "You can put on the radio, Tim."

The short guy jumped, startled. "You sure, boss?" he asked, cautiously.

"I wouldn't-ah have _suggested_ it if I _wasn't_."

Tim reached for the power button, but hesitated. "Do you care what, um, station, boss?"

I glanced at the Joker to see the grin slowly creep onto his face. "Just not _coun_-try."

"Okay, just let me know if you don't like something, boss." The guy pushed the button as the Joker murmured, "Will do." I stared out the window as Tim fiddled with the stations, trying to find the one he liked. The Joker too was looking out the window, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, hardly moving except playing with his mouth or licking his lips.

Tim finally found a station he liked, and he turned up the volume. I didn't recognize the artist or song, but the music had a good steady beat to it. In seconds, I started tapping my foot – the one farthest from the Joker. I felt self-conscious of my reaction toward music, since it was one of my pastimes. I was more than slightly surprised when I looked over and found the Joker bouncing his knee – the one closed to me – to the same beat.

Sensing my watching eyes, the Joker turned his head, and I jerked mine away, looking forward at the back of the seat in front of me.

"I _know_ you like music." I looked at the Joker, catching his eyes. He had said it loud enough for me to hear it, but not the driver who had the speakers at a higher volume.

"That doesn't mean anything," I told him, grudgingly. The Joker grinned and then leaned in close, until he was breathing on my neck again, my skin crawling. I stiffened as he pressed his cheek against mine, and I couldn't suppress the shudder that ran through me. He giggled softly as he pulled away.

When I dared to turn my head, his attention was on the dark city outside the window.

I resettled into my seat, noticing that my heart was racing again. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm myself down. How long has it been since the Joker kidnapped me? A month. I found myself counting how many times we had kissed. Numerous ones from him which only consisted of kisses on the hand, cheek, and neck – some were given to me in his sleep, waking me up and causing me to slap him awake – but I could remember seven of them that were _actual_ kisses.

"You've played poker with, ah, with the wild card." The Joker didn't sound like he was _asking_ me, he was stating a fact.

"Yeah…" I said cautiously, unsure of where he was headed. "You were there. I won that way at the meeting, or 'group therapy session', I should say." The Joker giggled when I added the air quotes.

"Cory's fond of the tale about you playing a Five-of-a-Kind and lying ah-_bout_ it."

Oh, I remembered, at The Stacked Deck, the nightclub that I had met Cory and Dean. "Yeah, so what about it?" I asked in return. I sneaked a peek at him to see that he was staring intently at me. "Does it make you upset that I used your calling-card to win?"

The Joker chuckled easily. "No, not at _all_, Shadow! Not. One. Bit."

"Then, why are you bringing it up?"

He thought for a moment and then shrugged as he said, "Curiosity."

"So much for _curiosity_," I grunted, crossing my arms and looking pointedly out the window.

At that moment, the Volvo swerved to the right, throwing me into the window and the Joker into me. The Joker growled, holding himself up with an arm over the backseat. "What are you _doing_?" he demanded, furiously.

"Sorry, boss," our driver said, his voice trembling, "I almost missed the turn."

"Eyes on the road when the radio's on, moron!" the Joker snapped. Then, he turned his head, and our eyes meet. A wide grin spread across his white-painted face. "_Hell_-o, beautiful."

"Hi," I said, trying to sound neutral, but failing. The Joker licked his lips slowly as he continued to stare at me, like he was expecting something. I narrowed my eyes. "You mind getting off me?" I asked.

"Nope," he responded, instead leaning closer in, shifting so that he sat right next to me, trapping me against the window.

Placing my hands on his chest, I shoved him back, shifting over on the seat before he came back, his brow frowned with annoyance. "Wanna get straightforward?" I growled, as a threat.

"Sure," he said, his face lightening up excitedly, "Why not-ah?"

"Fine. Get _off_ me or you'll regret it!"

"I'm scared," the Joker giggled, leaning his face closer to mine. "I'm _trembling_…all…_over_." As he pressed his body tight against mine, I realized that he _was_ indeed trembling, but I doubted it was out of fear.

There wasn't time for a warning as the Joker suddenly came in. I had no time to think, to stop him before he was kissing me. His scarred lips moved against mine as his hand came up, cupping my chin. Reacting towards his actions, and my unleashed emotions, I tilted my head to the side.

At the unique feel of his scarred lips, a strange pulse of energy flooded through me as the Joker pulled me closer. The thought of pushing him away never crossed my mind.

The Joker's scarred mouth worked magic together with mine, two equal contestants. There was a lot of heavy breathing and shifting as we lost ourselves in the other's stimulating energy. Placing a hand on my stomach, the Joker pressed me down into the backseat, nearly lying on top of me as his other hand slipped to the nape of my neck, pulling me into him.

We broke apart for air, and then joined together again. The kiss grew intense as his tongue traced my bottom lip flawlessly, begging for entrance. I smiled into the kiss, teasing him, before parting my lips, allowing his tongue to enter, to dance gracefully with mine.

I slipped my arms around his neck, burying my hands into his curly green hair. I moaned as he traced a hand down my side and around to the small of my back. He smiled into the kiss as he pulled me up against him. I arched into him as I pulled him closer to me, our bodies fitting together perfectly.

Our kiss broke, and we both gasped for breath, foreheads pressed together. A soft giggle erupted from the Joker, and because I was pressed into him, I felt his strong body vibrate with it, causing me to laugh with him. But that didn't last long as we came back together, our lips meeting and moving together aggressively with amazing harmonization.

The Joker was the center of my thoughts, and I must have been the center of his. We were so close together, fitting snugly and holding onto one another as we kissed. Gotham City could have crumbled around us, and we wouldn't have noticed. Batman could show up to capture the Joker, but it didn't matter because he would have to take me _with_ him. We were so unaware of our surroundings, lost in the entangled web of our emotions, until a nervous voice said, "Um, boss?"

With an angry growl that emanated from deep inside his chest, the Joker yanked his head out of my grasp, breaking the intense kiss. His eyes flashed with burning rage as he looked over at the one who had spoken. "_What_?" he demanded, furiously.

"W-We're here…"

The Joker's face darkened, rage filling every crease, his eyes seeming to turn black. I heard a _click_ from the switchblade that seemed to have just appeared in his hand. For a second, the Joker and Tim watched one another, and then the next second, there was a blur of motion as Tim shot out of the car, the Joker moving just as fast.

I sat up and climbed out of the car through the door that Joker left open, and I placed a hand on the carhood, watching as the short man ran down the street, screaming at the top of his lungs with the Joker hot on his heels.

Before the driver reached the corner, the Joker jumped on him from behind, dragging him down to the ground and smothering him so that he couldn't continue to cry for help. That done, it looked like the Joker was beating the driver senseless, his fists moving swiftly and making solid hits – from the _sound_ of it. I winced as I remembered that the Joker held his switchblade too, _while_ he was hitting Tim.

I heard the approach of the van and turned my head to see it pull up behind the Volvo. As the van driver turned off his headlights and killed the engine, I looked around, noticing that we were parked in an alley, directly across from the Gotham Peregrinators Club. A small smile stretched across my mouth with amusement.

The grin faltered, though, as a sudden flashback of what had occurred between me and the Joker flashed across my mind.

"What happened?" I jumped, gasping in surprise, turning to face Dean. "Sorry. Didn't _mean_ to scare you," he apologized, quickly.

"It's fine," I said, shakily.

"Where's the boss and Tim?" Dean asked, double checking the Volvo.

"Tim happened to smash the boss's head against the window when he swerved, and the Jo-the boss didn't appreciate it. So…" I motioned down the street. "_That_ happened," I said, finishing the lie uneasily.

Dean gave me an unconvinced look. "Were you hurt?" he asked.

"No, I…I sorta fell into the boss so I missed out on getting hurt."

Dean nodded and watched the Joker as he finished off Tim, causing Tim to shriek once in agony. "That's the thing about new guys. They don't realize how easily the boss can be ticked _off_." He gave an easy chuckle, but I remained silent, not amused. Instead, I glanced at my watch. Close to eight forty on a Tuesday night, the night that the Gotham Peregrinators Club was having the testimonial for Commissioner Gordon.

The other guys – a total of seven now, ten if you included the Rottweilers – were ready with their weapons and clown masks in their hands when the Joker finally returned to the cars. As he sauntered toward us, I recognized the familiar hunched over gait that he had, his eyes still dark with rage, his hand gripping his switchblade in a death grip. I caught sight of something dripping from the knife, and knew what it was.

Suddenly, the Joker said, "Catch." He lifted his hand quickly, throwing something into the air in the direction of me and Dean. Dean jumped up, catching it over his head, and as he dropped his hand, I realized it was a set of keys, probably the keys to the Volvo, taken from poor Tim.

"Shadow." My attention snapped to the Joker, out of fear of what mood he was in. He grinned at me, amused, but his tone was serious as he said, "Mind keeping an eye out for the Com-_mish_-ioner? Just _hang around_ until me and the boys here get-ah _in_ there?"

I didn't understand how he could push what had happened between us behind him so quickly. It hurt, but I felt that I should have _known_ that would happen if we were interrupted. For a moment, I was glad that Tim was dead, but that happiness faded. Numbly, I nodded, in response to the Joker's "suggestion", before shadowing into the club's lobby, melting into the shadows as soon as I was in there, forcing my conflicting emotions aside, steeling myself against them, to focus on my current job.

* * *

**Lordlink13: It's my birthday today, so I thought I'd give a gift to you readers. Giving you the chapter two days _early_! I'll have to admit that so far, this is by far, my _favorite_ chapter, which is why I'm giving it early. And it'll make up for next chapter, cause the next one isn't so great, in my opinion. So...an intense chapter between the Joker and Shadow. The beginning part – with the armwrestling match – was just for fun, but the rest is actual story. I hope you guys liked it, especially those who were **_**dying**_** to know when Shadow was gonna give in, even though she seems to **_**still**_** be resisting her true feelings. Please review and let me know.**


	28. Magic Tricks

It wasn't easy for me to push what happened in the Volvo aside, but I managed to seal away the emotions, the confusion, and the _horror_ of what occurred, allowing my mind to focus on the task on hand.

I had shadowed into the building lobby and had hidden among the shadows behind a large fern. Regaining control over my emotions, I peeked through the fern, looking about the lobby and feeling like I was in a fancy hotel. The place was flamboyant, expensive pictures, tall plants, royal carpets…I never understood the rich's need to surround themselves with expensive objects. Leave the pictures in a museum for others to enjoy, not just the rich people who buy them.

A couple walked into the lobby, chatting politely to one another as they approached the reception desk. The man leaned forward over the desk and asked the woman behind it were the fundraiser was located. She replied that it was up on the fourth floor.

I turned my head to see that the stairs were very well-lit. There were shadows I could use, but they were small. As the couple headed for the stairs, an idea struck me. I shadowed, tuning my mind to the man's shadow. To my surprise, my idea worked; the only problem was the fact that the man was _moving_ that I couldn't hold onto so I have to walk behind him, keeping with his shadow to hide.

After climbing three flights of stairs, the couple and I approached a pair of double doors where two men stood behind a podium, one leaning over a guest book and the other waiting to open the door. The couple walked up and gave their names, and the man by the door gripped the handle and opened it for the couple. I wandered in behind them, and then, spotting some shadows to the side, I abandoned the man's shadow, relieved.

The fundraiser for the police was in a large room, filled with the club's members, Gotham's rich people, cops dressed formally, and servers who carried trays of filled glasses or bite-size snacks. Long tables were lined about the room, shaping a squared-off U with a podium acting as a keystone to the squared arch. From the intercoms in the ceiling and walls, classical music played strings, giving background noise to keep the room from falling silent, even though I doubted that was possible with the amount of people.

I edged around the room, keeping to the shadows – shadowing to another set, if necessary – and ducked away from people, trying to give them enough space so that if they moved suddenly, they wouldn't hit me.

The Commissioner was difficult to locate with the number of people at the fundraiser. It took me a full ten minutes, and I wasn't surprised to find him by a side table, talking to someone. I grinned as I crept over in the shadows, my hearing tuned to his conversation with the guy.

As I approached, I couldn't help but check the guy out. He appeared to be close to his thirties with a fit figure. His hair, combed and tidy, was coal black, and his eyes – shining with intelligence – were blue. I blinked as I stopped within the shadows. Boy, wasn't he _handsome_!

"Well, congratulations again, Jim," the man said, his voice kind and soft. "Sorry I won't be able to stay for dinner."

"The life of a busy sociality," Gordon sighed. "Any way I could sneak out with you, Wayne?"

Wayne – as he was called – chuckled as he shook Gordon's hand. "Afraid not," he said. "But with the funds you should get tonight, you'll be able to enquire better equipment for capturing criminals." He smiled and clapped Gordon's shoulder before turning away. I followed him out the double doors and stood watching him as he hurried down the stairs.

"Bruce Wayne," I murmured. The Joker had told me about the famous playboy of Gotham. Rich, _spoiled_…and so _good_-looking. If I wasn't with the Joker…no, not _with_ him. Definitely not _with_ him. It didn't matter that I had lost control over my emotions with him in the backseat of the Volvo; I was _not_. _With_. _Him_.

I turned back and returned to Gordon, listening into his conversations with a variety of people. I didn't know when the Joker planned on coming in, but I hoped he didn't make me wait too long. Shadows weren't plentiful, despite all the lights. I had to rely on people's shadows to move about the room. Then, it was easier to keep with Gordon, but I altered between people, listening to conversations and finding out how many cops were at the fundraiser.

There was at _least_ twenty cops dressed up in tuxedos in the room, a few were women dressed in dresses. I couldn't help but smirk, liking the fact that the Joker hadn't pushed me to put on a dress for this party. There was _one_ cop who seemed familiar, rather he was a detective. Last name was Nash, but his looks were familiar. No matter how _long_ I remained near him, watching, I couldn't for the life of me place where I had seen him before.

I wandered for about half an hour, waiting for the guests to simply sit _down_ and eat. When no one was looking, I snatched something here and there, just something for me to munch on while I waited.

A quarter to nine, Gordon finally moved to the podium, causing a round of applause about the room. From a corner close to him, I clapped too, trying hard not to yawn with boredom. He kept his speech short, talking about Gotham's finest and how their work was making Gotham better. I tried to hold back a laugh, finding what the Commissioner was saying funny, and I could just imagine how funny the _Joker_ would have thought it was, if he was listening to it. After awhile, I blocked Gordon out, and simply viewed the guests nodding as they listened to the Commissioner. Finally, Gordon came to his conclusion, saying how honored he was to be the Commissioner of the Police Department. "I'm very touched," he told the audience, "And I'll conclude with-."

He cut off when rapid shots went off. I turned my head toward the double doors, a faint smile touching my lips.

Talk about _dramatic_ and good-_timing_.

The double doors slammed open, stealing screams from several women within the room. From my spot near Commissioner Gordon, I could see the Joker's henchmen clearly as they ran in, firing gunshots up at the ceiling. The cops started to pull out their side-arms, but the servers knocked them out, holding the police down.

This was an interesting twist in the plan. My eyes widened as I realized that the Joker had set it up so that he wasn't going in with just seven guys; he had men _inside_ the club already.

I saw Commissioner Gordon reaching for his gun, but I shadowed over and took it from him, grabbing him in a headlock. "Don't _move_, Gordon," I whispered, my voice cold, cruel. I jerked his head up just as the Joker himself entered the room, a submachine gun hanging at his side, followed by our Rottweilers.

The Joker looked around the room, like he was taking in the view of cops being held in locks, some having their own handcuffs on their wrists. "Is it just-ah _me_, or does this feel like déjà vu?" he asked loudly so everyone could hear him. No one responded, and the Joker grinned. "The audience is _stunned_."

He walked proudly amongst the party members who weren't cops; the Rottweilers jumped ahead, growling at the civilians, making a path for their master. All eyes were on the Joker, if they weren't focused on the growling dogs or the clowns who held weapons to their faces. The Joker scanned the room as he continued. "I heard ah-bout this _test-_imonial for Com-_mish_-ioner Gordon, and thought I'd _drop by_, for not only his, but _your_, enter-_tain_-ment." He stopped, and his eyes narrowed. "Where _is_ the fine Com-_mish_-ioner?"

A number of people glanced in the Commissioner's direction, but all looked surprised and scared when they didn't see him. I smiled, wondering if they thought he had abandoned them when the Joker had arrived.

One look at the clown, and I _knew_ the Joker wasn't happy with this new development.

He tossed his submachine gun carelessly to one of the clowns and pulled out a handgun from his pocket as he grabbed a boy out of the crowd, pressing his weapon to the kid's head. The boy appeared to be in his middle teens, too young to socialize well with the adults but old enough to come to a party such as this. I glanced over to see the boy's mother clinging tightly to her husband, fearing for her son's life.

I looked back, seeing the daring menace in the Joker's eyes, but the paralyzing fear in the kid's had my grip on Gordon tightening with the embers of anger. There were _many_ things that the Joker could, and would, do that I didn't care about, but even though I didn't mind him killing people, I had an objection to him killing, or even _harming_ a child. The reason could probably be drawn from my past, having been tortured as a kid, and I didn't want other children to have gone through what I did.

Taking my handgun from my belt, I cocked it and pointed it at the Joker. It didn't matter what my conflicting feelings for him were; I wouldn't hesitate to _kill_ him, if he moved to really _hurt_ the kid.

"We have a, ah, a young one at such a formal _fiesta_," the Joker giggled, looking around the room. "Bet he argued with his mom and dad, wanting to stay home rather than come to a party where he can't socialize with some _pretty girl_." The Joker looked down at the boy, stroking his hair. "I know the feeling…" He turned the boy slightly, grabbing the back of his neck and forcing him to look at him. "Tell me, kid, _did_ you argue with your parents?"

The boy simply stared at him, his eyes wide with fear. His lower lip trembled, and it didn't look like he was going to answer.

"Come now, boy," the Joker encouraged, smacking the boy's cheek. Even though the kid winced, I resisted pulling the trigger. It wasn't _hard_ enough to cause the damage. "It's better to answer rather than give me the silent treatment. Your life _depends_ on your actions less than the others' around you. Look at the crowd." He gestured with his gun to everyone around them. "If one of them makes a wrong move, your life ends now. So far, none of them will _dare_." The Joker pointedly glared at the guests. "I can name one who _would_ dare…" He looked directly at me, his dark eyes boring into mine.

I pressed my lips together tightly, the hand holding the gun shaking. It shocked me how he had found me so fast, among the crowd, _especially_ when I was shadowmelded into my surroundings. Then, I realized that having contact with the Commissioner, I had made him shadowmeld into his environment, and the Joker had noticed, so he _knew_ I was with Gordon.

Still, the Joker must have _sensed_ that I was threatening his life at the moment, keeping him in line where the kid's life was concerned.

"Now!" the Joker yelled, making everyone in the room jump. "Kid, answer my question. Did you argue with your parents before you came here?"

The boy swallowed and said something inaudible from where I stood.

"No?" The Joker's voice had gone so low that it was nearly inaudible as well. "No," he repeated, louder. "What kind of teenager _are_ you?" He had suddenly become angry, or he was only acting. Either way, the Joker is dangerous while standing on the edge. "You didn't want to stay home! Were you in the state of mind of believing that you'd meet a girl your age? Pathetic." The Joker smacked the boy's face none too gently as if punishing him, causing my trigger finger to twitch, and then shoved him away in disgust. "The youth of Gotham are proving to be quite, ah, _disappointing_." I took a deep breath, slowly lowering my gun.

"If it's _money_ you want, take it!" someone shouted. Whoever it was chucked their wallet out, and it almost hit the Joker in the head, except he reached up and snatched it out of the air.

The Joker stood there for a moment, opening the wallet and checking an ID card. His eyes shot up as he headed in the direction that the wallet had been thrown from. Within moments, his hand shot out and grabbed a young man, maybe in his early-twenties, by the front of his suit. He squirmed against the Joker's hold, until the Joker held his switchblade his face.

"Don't in-_sult_ me," the Joker growled. "Money's _never_ been something I was after." He took hold of the young man's jacket with his other hand, and heaved the guy off the ground, holding him aloft before throwing him, and his wallet, back into a couple of trapped cops.

The Joker took a moment and leered at the guests around him. A middle-aged woman seemed to catch his eye, and he approached her, licking his lips. "Nervous, aren't ya?" he asked her. "Is it from you not knowing why I'm here or because of the scars?"

What was he doing? I narrowed my eyes in concentration, wishing that I could read the Joker's mind to see what he was planning. He might _claim_ he isn't a schemer, but having the waiters at the fundraiser only _proved_ that he planned ahead. He still improvised, but he always had the basics covered before he let his imagination loose.

The Joker started laughing at the woman as his stare began to unnerve her. "Are you, ah, _married_?" he asked, "Because I can see that marriage would ruin a woman such as yourself." He faked a violent step forward, and the woman cried out in horror. The Joker giggled in response, seeming to taste her fear with his flickering tongue as it darted out over his lips again.

A man from the crowd shoved his way forward, coming to stand between the woman and the Joker. He was taller than the Joker, enough to make the Joker crane his neck back to look into the man's eyes.

"You must be the lady's husband," the Joker said, his mouth twitching with amusement. "Do you feel _insulted_ by what-ah I _said_? Think you can match me with _size_?"

The gentleman glared at him.

Gordon started to struggle against my hold, but I activated my shadow strength to overcome him. I adjusted my grip, placing my gun to the base of his neck.

"Not much of a talker, _are_ you?" The Joker clicked open his switchblade, and the man flinched. "I like that in a man. Less trouble."

"You don't frighten me, little man," the gentleman said in a very deep voice with a heavy accent. He spoke like English wasn't his first language.

The Joker looked at him in mock surprise. "Little man," he repeated. "Tell me, sir, have you ever heard the saying, 'The bigger they are, the _harder_ they fall'?" Before the gentleman could react, the Joker kneed him, and as he doubled over in pain, the Joker stabbed him in the gut, dropping him on the ground where he convulsed in agony.

"Henry!" His wife darted forward, but the Joker leaped at her, grabbing her face, startling her.

"Sh-sh-sh," he hushed her, stroking her cheek. She tried to get out of his grasp, but a flash of his switchblade in front of her face, and she went still, the color in her expression vanishing. "You'll _thank_ me later," the Joker told her before he pushed her away from him and moved out into the open. "C'mon, where's the Com-_mish_-ioner? I'm on a _tight_ schedule." He took out his waistcoat watch, checking the time.

Nearby, I heard a grunt and whimper of pain. A cop had broken from a server's grasp and had knocked him down. The man was now making a run for the Joker, pulling out a gun from its holster under his suit jacket.

At the sound of the gun being cocked, the Joker's head jerked up, and his eyes caught sight of the cop running towards him. He grinned slightly and waited for the man to come to him. The cop fired, but missed the Joker by inches. Then, the Joker was on him, knocking his weapon out of his hand and making a quick finish of him, throwing him to the ground.

"Anyone _else_ want to try?" the Joker asked, placing his foot on the back of the cop's head. He was applying minimal weight to keep the man down, but it was enough to make the cop whimper as his face was crushed into the floor. "No one?" The Joker's face fell, clearly disappointed. "C'mon, surely there are more cops than just _one_, not including the Com-_mish_-ioner."

The Joker spotted someone he recognized. He snapped his fingers twice, and out of the crowd, the three Rottweilers appeared. "Guard," the Joker ordered, pointing to the cop he was holding down. Buddy barked, as if saying, "Yes, sir."

The Joker grinned, slipping both gun and switchblade into his pocket as he stepped away from the cop, who whimpered when Prince growled loudly at him. I watched the Joker as he wandered into the crowd, causing the people to make a path for him. At the end of that path, I saw the detective who had looked very familiar before, Detective Nash.

"How ex-_cit_-ing," the Joker exclaimed as he approached the detective. "One of the _victims_ of my rivals." He giggled as he added, "_Ed_-ward."

I blinked, mouth dropping in surprise. I realized where I had seen the detective. It had been difficult from before because he had red hair when I first saw him, but now, I realized that he had dyed it brown for the purpose of hiding his identity. Now, even without the eyemask and green clothing, I recognized Nash as the Riddler.

There was a menacing gleam in the Joker's eyes. I could see it from where I standing with Gordon, and it scared me.

"Wanna see a magic trick?" the clown asked his undercover rival. Edward – the Riddler – stood his ground, keeping a serious expression on his face, and didn't reply. Without a word, the Joker pulled a sharpened pencil from his pocket and slammed it down on the table beside Edward, causing him to flinch slightly. I blinked in surprise when the pencil actually stood upright on its eraser and guessed it to be a brand new one.

Abruptly, the Joker grabbed Edward by the front of his tux, looming into his face. Immediately, there was movement amongst the crowd and before I could spot it, I saw a man pop out, holding a long knife. Even as the man came up behind him, the Joker told Edward, loudly and clearly, "I'm gonna make this pencil…_disappear_."

The Joker shoved Edward back against the table and spun, snapping one hand on his assailant's wrist while grabbing the back of the guy's head. Fluently, he stepped to the side and slammed the man's forehead down on the sharpened pencil before throwing him backward onto the floor.

Reactions varied about the room. Those closest to actually see the dead man cried out in either a loud gasp or a shriek. Two women fainted at the sight, swooning into their companion's arms. One man turned, bent over, and vomited, resulting in a number of people's protests of disgust as their nice shoes or fine clothing were ruined. Those out about the room who could see covered their eyes with hands and handkerchiefs. Each reaction held one thing in common: disgusted _horror_.

"_Now_!" the Joker snapped, scaring everyone closest, including Edward. He grabbed Edward and shoved him toward the middle of the room, into the U-form of the tables. Edward stumbled, managing to catch himself before he fell on a nearby table. "I want to ask you, De-_tec_-tive. Have you ever seen someone stand on one finger?"

Edward narrowed his eyes. I could practically hear his mind cranking its gears to figure out what the Joker meant. Finally, he shook his head.

The Joker visibly brightened. "_Ex_-cellant!" he exclaimed. "I'm gonna _teach_ it to yah!" Looming into his face again, the Joker's lips moved, but he spoke quietly, so that whatever he said was for the undercover Riddler to hear. Then, he said clearly, "It's _really_ not that hard to learn. You'll be my _assist_-ant." He pulled Edward by the front of his tux, throwing him down to the ground.

"With my _assist_-ant, I'm going to stand on _one_ finger," the Joker explained to the terrified crowd. Crouching down, he pressed down on Edward's back, making sure he remained on the floor, whispering what I guessed to be instructions to the undercover villain to him. Edward remained still as the Joker straightened and, suddenly, stomped his foot on the Riddler's hand.

The crowd around gasped, not as disgusted by this trick, but still horrified by what the Joker had done. Giggling, the clown stepped away, saying, "I _never_ said it was gonna be _my_ finger."

"Neither did you say it'd be a _hand_." The Joker turned to see Edward on his knees and hand, his broken hand clenched to his chest protectively. Hatred burned in his eyes as he glared at the madman who had hurt him.

The Joker chewed on the inside of his cheek, turning his head and giving Edward a sidelook. "Well, _Nash_-ah, I _did_ tell you that the faster you moved, the less _pain_ you'd get. If yah moved your _hand_, I would've _missed_."

Edward growled and shoved himself to his feet. Seeing the threat from the violent stand-up, the Joker pulled out his gun and aimed it at Edward's chest. The undercover Riddler held himself back, his eyes on the Joker's weapon. "Ever been _skydiving_ before, Nash?" the Joker asked, darkly. "If you _want_, I can _arrange_ it for yah." He motioned to the windows and said, "There are _plenty_ of exits you could, ah, _leave_ by."

"Nash isn't the one _leaving_."

The Joker spun around, his eyes darting about the crowd, trying to find who had spoken. Upon hearing the voice, my heart pounded in my chest, rage burning through my system with bursts of adrenaline. In an attempt to hold back my anger before I lost control, I pinched my eyes closed but immediately opened them, sensing movement.

I caught the sudden movement in my peripheral vision; saw the man step out of the crowd with a gun aimed at the back of the Joker's head. Without a second's hesitation, I released Gordon and shadowed over to the man, slamming into him from the side.

His finger pulled the trigger as I hit him. The Joker gasped in pain, dropping his gun on the floor, instantly becoming a victim of Edward who had been waiting for the opportunity. I went down with his attacker, knocking the assailant's weapon out of his hand. Angrily, I grappled with the man, fending off his attempts to fight me, and I pushed him over to his back, taking his set handcuffs on his belt and snapping them down on his wrists.

Having the man down, I jumped to my feet and turned to the Joker. Edward had been pulled off the madman by two masked clowns, allowing him to climb to his feet where he stood, holding his shoulder with a hand, slumped forward, head hanging. He seemed unsteady on his feet, waving from side-to-side. I ran over to him, and tried supporting him, but he pushed me away, resisting my assistance.

The gunshot that wounded the Joker seemed to set off some trigger in the room. Trapped cops fought their capturers, many succeeding in reversing their positions, knocking the Joker's men down to the ground and out of the fight. Without me holding him down, Gordon was back on his feet, gun aimed at me and the Joker.

"How un-_fort_-unate," the Joker laughed, painfully as he lifted his head. He started to backup, and I moved with him to give the illusion that we weren't moving much. "I _think_, Com-_mish_-ioner, that you're _still_ _out_-numbered. You haven't _won_ yet-ah." He burst into a fit of laughter as two clowns snuck behind the Commissioner, disarming and trapping him. "But I liked your _attempt_ to regain control of the situation."

A cop had moved to the other's side, and I raised my gun, aiming it at the free cop's head. The man warned him, and the cop looked up, paling as he saw the deadly look in my eyes.

Suddenly, the man managed to use his keys to unlock the handcuffs, freeing himself. He grabbed his gun off to the side, staying on his knees, and fired at the Joker again. I saw him moving and shoved the Joker aside, the bullet grazing his right cheek. As the Joker slammed to the ground, unfortunately on his already wounded shoulder, I shadowed toward the assailant again, appearing before him and kicking his gun out of his hand, knocking him onto his back.

Rather than stay with him, I returned to the Joker, clearly irritated, even as I knelt beside the clown as he slowly climbed to his feet.

"We have you surrounded, Joker," Gordon said. I turned my head to see that three other cops had helped rescue him from the two clowns. He held his gun in his hand, but he didn't have it pointed at the Joker.

Seeing this, the Joker looked about the room, to see that the cops were free and were _indeed_ surrounding him. The tables had turned, just because the cops were trained, whereas the Joker's men weren't.

"Drop your weapons," Gordon ordered.

The Joker shrugged, to show that he had no others. I knew of all the knives he had in his pocket, but his switchblade and gun were still on the ground at his feet. He kicked his gun forward, away from him and lifted his hands slightly.

It ticked me off that he was giving up. Surely the Joker _never_ gave in, unless he had no other option. Didn't he remember that I had a shadowing ability? I could get us out of here. But as I reached back and touched his arm, he jerked it away, clearly not wanting that option to be there.

I didn't like it, and I wasn't going to give up, even if the Joker was.

"Drop your weapon," Gordon repeated as the cops closed in. I glared at them, one by one, only gripping my gun tighter. Besides having a fear of hanging over water, I had a small fear for being locked up; that's why I was never caught, even in my twelve years of working for the Mob. I wouldn't _do_ well behind bars.

"Put your gun down, Jane." I spun, locating the man who had spoken, my eyes narrowing at the sight of him. He approached slowly, even though I had my gun aimed at his chest.

"You _know_ him?" the Joker asked behind me.

"Oh, do I _know_ him," I growled, angrily. "Stop where you are, Lieutenant."

"You're not in the situation to be making demands, Jane," he told me, calmly, but he stopped, feet away from me. "Give up, Jane."

I inhaled sharply through my nose, trying to keep my rage under control. "The name's no longer Jane," I whispered coldly. "It's _Shadow_."

I threw my gun aside and lunged at him. Rapidly, I threw blows at him, scoring a number of them. I had startled him, using his surprise as an advantage. He backed down, trying to defend himself, but I was so angry, so full of hatred, that I threw all I had at him. I knocked him down with a left hook and then took his own gun and pointed it at his head.

While I had been beating him, the whole situation around me had changed again. The Joker's men had gotten up from being "unconscious" and were now knocking down the cops into submission. I thought it had only been a minute, but it seemed like everything could change in just a minute.

Next thing I knew, someone took hold of my shoulders and pulled me away from the lieutenant. I blinked, feeling at a loss as four masked clowns surrounded the lieutenant, one of them hitting him hard with the butt of his gun, before the four of them dragged him away, the crowd moving out of the way, rather than helping the lieutenant.

"You okay?" the familiar husky voice asked by my ear.

I realized I was shaking. My hand released the lieutenant's gun, dropping it on the floor, and I almost collapsed, if it hadn't been for the Joker standing directly behind me. He wrapped an arm around my waist and turned me around to face him, and I caught the concern in his expression, a strange emotion to see on the Joker's painted face.

"I'm fine," I said, hesitantly. I set my feet firmly on the ground and straightened, but the Joker didn't release me, only tightened his hold. "Don't Mister J," I told him, "I'll be fine, honest."

He hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly like he was trying to read my expression, but he eventually released me. I stepped away from him, looked around to make sure no one was watching, turned my attention back and flashed him a small smile. Just as quick, he returned the grin and then turned and wandered toward the crowd again, checking the time on his waistcoat watch.

I turned around to search for the lieutenant, but the four clowns had taken him away. Anger slowly boiled in my veins as I scanned the room, counting the cops trapped by the Joker's men. I locked gazes with the undercover Riddler for a long minute as he tried to fight off the two clowns holding him. A smile stretched across my lips, and having a nasty pleasantry come over me, I blew him a mocking kiss.

When I finally returned my attention to the Joker, he seemed to have control over the crowd's fear, holding a current victim; obviously, he had forgotten all about his wounded shoulder.

The Joker had a young woman by the wrist, his switchblade pressed to her lips. From my position, I heard him speaking about his scars, how he received them when his little sister pushed him down a well and he had smashed into the wood covering it, the splinters ripping open his mouth. The young woman was weeping, from fear or from the horrific images that crossed her mind as the Joker told the story, convincing as he was, his voice changing with faked emotions.

He was so caught up in his story-telling that he didn't see the man dressed up as a bat seem to appear from the crowd.

"Party's over, Joker."

The Joker turned his head, and when he saw the black figure, a wide grin spread over his scarred lips. "A bit _late_, aren't we?" he asked, shoving the weeping woman away from him and turning. "Glad you could make it, Bats, even when there's a risk of you getting _arrested_." He made a show of looking about the room. "But of course, I _prepared_ for that, taking care of the cops in the room so that you could join in the _fun_."

"The fun's _finished_," Batman replied, in his raspy voice.

"I don't _think_ so," the Joker chuckled. "The fun's only _started_."

Batman leaped for him. The Joker couldn't move fast enough. Batman slammed into him, knocking him right across the room, where he smashed into a table.

People closest screamed as food and dishes fell onto the floor, glass shattering on impact. Batman headed swiftly for the clown, who blinked his eyes hard, rapidly, like he had hit his head, causing his vision to become blurry. To give him time to recover, I shadowed behind Batman and wrapped my arms around his neck, yanking him down to the floor.

He struggled as I kept my grip on him, moving my head to avoid his punches to my face. I wrapped my legs around him, trying to trap his arms, but he reached up, grabbing my head and jerking his head back, hitting me hard in the face.

My vision swam, and I fell back on the ground, wincing in pain as a headache emerged from the depths. A black blur stood over me, starting to bend over when something slammed down on his head. It sounded like glass, the way it smashed to pieces, and I lifted my arms, protecting my face from shattered bits.

"You're here for _me_, Bats," the Joker said, angrily. "So come and _get_ me." The black blur over me moved away, clearly going after the Joker, giving me time to push myself slowly to my feet. I felt unsteady, but I pushed my personal matters aside, forcing myself to focus on the Joker.

It seemed to be an even match, Batman using power while the Joker used speed. Batman scored more hits on the Joker than the clown did on him, but the Joker was laughing hysterically as they fought. A few of the Joker's guys came out of the crowd and helped their boss, but the Joker kept yelling at them that the Bat was _his_.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I turned my head, sensing that it was an ally, not an enemy. A clown mask stared back at me, but the guy lifted it bit, allowing me to recognize him as Dean.

"Don't join in," Dean whispered to me. "Those guys are going to be punished later for jumping in."

"Why does he like fighting Batman alone?"

"Because," Dean shrugged, "Batman completes him. He's the Bat's biggest fan."

"Biggest fan, at the same time of being his most dangerous rival."

"Yup. That's the Joker for you." Dean and I stood off on the sidelines, watching Batman as he pounded the Joker down to the floor, the clown laughing harder with each hit. "When you get the chance, Shadow, mind letting him know that we've got his man in the van."

"His man?" I asked, confused. Dean winked and disappeared into the crowd.

I turned back to the fight before me, seeing that the Joker was on the verge of losing. I had to stop it soon so, not caring about the consequences, I shadowed into the battle, slamming into Batman from the side, knocking him away from the Joker. I threw a number of rapid punches at the Bat's face before jumping off him and shadowing to the Joker's shadow.

The Joker was on his feet, checking the time on his waistcoat watch. He flinched as I appeared in his shadow, and he shuddered, like he was suddenly cold. "Bleak tells me that they have your man," I whispered into his ear. The Joker nodded and said, "Then, it's time for goodbyes." He sounded disappointed, but he put his watch away.

"Oh, look at the _time_!" the Joker exclaimed. "I'd _love_ to stay and _continue_ our dance, Bats, but I'm, ah, on a _tight_ schedule."

"What would _you_ have going on?" Batman demanded, climbing to his feet. He started toward the Joker, taking long, quick steps.

"Ya know, the usual," the Joker explained, casually, taking two steps back to Batman's one step forward. I understood the backing up, but moving towards a _table_, rather than the _door_?

"I'm a busy guy. Planning threats, planting bombs, kidnapping people, blowing old factories" – an obvious hint to the Ace Chemical Factory – "Robbing banks, destroying the Mob, juggling other top criminals…" The Joker waved his hands dismissively. "The list does on. _But_-ah," he added with excitement, "I'll leave with a _final_ magic trick that will leave you screaming." The Joker turned and jumped onto the table, spinning back and holding something in both hands.

Batman, who had almost reached him, stopped, noticing the two objects the Joker was holding.

"See these, Bats?" the Joker asked. Then, he dropped his arms to his sides, rolling his eyes. "Of _course_ you see them." I cracked a smile at that as he lifted his hands and continued, "One of these holds enough power to blow all of us to _smithereens_." Some women wept. "But the _other_ one produces the magic dust I need for my trick. You have ten _sec_-onds to choose, Batman. Choose wisely, wouldn't want to kill the sweet and _inno_-cent ci-_vil_-ians, now would we?" The Joker chuckled and started humming the Jeopardy theme song, ticking down the seconds.

Batman hesitated, but I realized by the Joker's shining eyes that no matter what he chose, it wasn't going to be bad. The Joker wasn't going to kill himself to kill others.

His eyes darted to him, finding me somehow, and I realized that I must have been part of his magic trick. Obediently, I shadowed to his shadow again. The Joker jumped when I appeared, but he didn't stop humming Jeopardy.

Batman lunged for the Joker's legs, but I grabbed the Joker's waist the same moment he dropped both objects. I shadowed us across the room so I could watch the magic "dust" work, and it appeared, covering the whole area, a heavy dust cloud that spread throughout the room.

"Leave me and take the others," the Joker told me. "Take me last."

I did as he told me and shadowed about the room, picking up only the Joker's masked henchmen, leaving the servers behind. The only two I had to grab were Peter and Cory, since Dean was waiting by the cars with the other four clowns who had taken the Joker's man, who, unfortunately for me, turned out to be no other than Lieutenant Hawkins.

* * *

**Lordlink13: First, I'd like to say thank-you to all of you who wished me a Happy Birthday. I had a **_**wonderful**_** day, with cake, ice cream, presents…it seemed like my different groups of friends had the same brainwave, even though they don't know one another. My birthday gifts were very…shall we saw, Batman-themed. And most of the stuff was Joker-related, though a mix of Heath Ledger's Joker and the very **_**first**_** version of the Joker, back when Bob Kane first made Batman. It's cool, and I loved it anyway. Second, someone had asked me, if this story was a movie, who would I use to play Shadow, and thanks to **BootsJim**, I've come with an answer: Emma Stone (just picture her hair straight and pulled back most of the time, and add blue eye contacts, and that's the closest picture you can get to my image - and **BootsJim**'s - of Shadow).**** Now, thirdly, to the story…this chapter was **_**way**_** too difficult to write. I must have rewritten it fifteen times to even get **_**this**_**. It's better than what I had thought to use, because something about my birthday being on Friday 13****th**** this year just struck something in me to make this chapter better. For those who had watched the movie, I certainly hope you recognized **_**one**_** of the Joker's tricks. If not, go **_**watch. The. Movie!**_** Or I'll send the Joker after you! And don't forget to review before you go watch it too. ;)**


	29. Criminal's Counsel

It was raining when the Joker and I arrived outside by the Volvo and the black van. The Lieutenant was thrown into the back of the van, and the majority of the Joker's guys were climbing into the van, filling up the space rather rapidly.

I hesitated, hardly noticing the rain pouring down on my head. I didn't want to go into the van because _he_ was in there, but I also didn't want to ride in the other car where the Joker and I had…shall I be honest, made-_out_. With the memory rushing back, I shivered, feeling tormented by remembering the way I had lost myself in the pleasure of being so close to the Joker.

"You wanna _melt_?" Dean asked from beside me. I started, looking at him with wide eyes; I hadn't noticed him sneaking up on me. He waited patiently while I regained control over myself. "Which car, Shadow?"

"I'll drive," I told him.

Dean grinned and reached into his pocket. He pulled out the keys to the Volvo and tossed them at me as he headed toward the passenger's side. My hand snapped out, snatching them out of the air, and I kept my hand raised for a few moments before dropping it.

"Hey, _Sha_-dow, you, ah, gonna drive?" the Joker asked, coming to my side.

I heaved a sigh, raising my eyes to the night sky. "Yes, I am," I said, exasperated.

"Well, you might want to, ah, to get _in_ the car." He giggled and then started to bounce toward the car, only to groan softly and slow to a heavy walk as he grabbed at his wounded shoulder. I watched him as he went to the backdoor, pulling it open with a wince. He had pulled off his jacket to reveal the blood seeping through his hexagonal shirt. The fight against Batman had opened his wound, letting blood flow freely. His shoulder went limp as he stepped into the car, a grimace on his face.

"C'mon, Shadow," Dean called as Peter stepped into the other side of the Volvo, getting into the backseat with a medical bag.

I walked toward the driver's door, pulling it open. I climbed in and adjusted the seat forward – since I was smaller than the dead guy who had driven us to the party. Dean sat in the passenger's side, his gun lying on his lap with it pointed toward his door.

The van was already pulling out, but I stepped on the gas. The Volvo shot forward, narrowly avoiding colliding with the van. I raced down the street at forty, flicking on the headlights.

I kept my eyes on the road, unless I had to glance for a second at the side or rearview mirror. However, the rearview mirror didn't show the road or the van behind me. The Joker had positioned himself so that he was directly in my view, and my eyes caught his every time I checked the mirror.

I tried to avoid looking, but it was a habit with driving. The Joker's eyes never moved; they were staring at mine every time I looked, even if I adjusted my head slightly. A few times, I caught the Joker in the middle of a wince as Peter patched up his wounded shoulder, but otherwise, I felt a stab of fear when the Joker looked at me.

His motionless gaze distracted me, making my disturbance worse. I didn't watch what I was doing as I took a sharp turn, cutting in front of a truck and clipping its left side.

I jumped when the truck driver honked at me. In my fright, I stepped on the brake, and the truck rammed into the Volvo from behind, having no time to brake. I switched my foot to gas pedal, and the Volvo jerked forward.

"Shadow, brake!" the Joker ordered, abruptly.

I slammed on the brake, jerking everyone forward with their momentum. We came to a halt, and I sat there, shaking.

"Pull over to the side," the Joker instructed calmly. I obeyed numbly as my heart pounded furiously in my chest. My trembling had become worse, and I felt a lump rising in my throat. My eyes stung, but I blinked harshly several times; this was the worst time to cry.

"Now, get _out_ of the car and _talk_ to the fellow." I looked up in the rearview mirror to catch the Joker's eyes, mine wide in silent horror. He simply stared back, impassively.

I checked my side mirror to see that the truck driver had pulled up behind me, and he was in the process of climbing out of his car. Shaky, I opened my door and stepped out.

"Woman! What did you _think_ you were _doing_?" the man demanded. I shrank back from him, still hanging to my car door. He was a big guy driving a truck, and he was wearing a baseball cap. From experience, that was a stereotype of a driver that was _very_ scary when they were angry.

The truck driver continued to yell, swearing angrily as he approached me. "You stupid bitch! Driving recklessly like that! You hit my truck, damnit! And stopped so that I hit your piece of-!"

The backdoor of my car opened, and the Joker stepped out, turning to face the driver. The other driver stopped dead, halfway between the Volvo and his truck, silencing himself in mid-sentence with his eyes nearly popping out of his head at the sight of the Joker.

"Got a problem, sir?" the clown asked, calmly as he slammed his door shut, pulling his vest straight.

The truck driver's mouth gapped as he struggled to find words. He started shaking with fear as the Joker moved slowly toward the trunk of the Volvo, his hand sliding along the silver car's surface, his eyes intent on the driver.

"Oh, hell!" the driver said, and then spun on his heel to run toward his car. The Joker lurched forward, racing after the big man, and he slammed him into the front of his truck. Grappling roughly, the Joker pinned the driver on the car hood, pressing his cheek hard into the hood.

I started forward before stopping at the Volvo's trunk, my hand on the back. I heard the unmistakable _click_ of the Joker's switchblade as the Joker grabbed a handful of the driver's hair, turning his head in a painfully awkward position so that the driver could see the Joker's face and me.

"I _heard_ what-ah you said to the fine _lady_ over there," the Joker growled, angrily. He pressed his switchblade to the driver's lips, cutting a thin line into the corner of his mouth. I knew how sensitive the mouth was because of all the nerves, but it still shocked me when the big man started crying instantly.

"You _real_-ly shouldn't have _said_ those things," the Joker drawled. "It makes me _angry_ to, ah, to hear such words coming from a man's mouth, aimed at a woman. What makes me angrier _still_…is that your vulgar language was aimed at…my…_girl_." My eyes widened in surprise. Was I hearing things?

The driver's eyes widened as he looked at me, but then, the Joker jerked his head, forcing him to look into his furious eyes. "I don't-ah ap-_pre_-ciate you talking to _my girl_ like that!" I _had_ to be imagining those words, I just _had_ to be. "And do you wanna _guess_ what-ah I _do_ to men like you?" the Joker asked, his voice sinister.

"No…" the truck driver sobbed.

The menacing Glasgow grin stretched across the Joker's face, and his shoulders shook as he tried without much success to control his laughter. He pulled the truck driver's cheek taut, readying the switchblade that waited in the man's mouth. The man cried, tears spilling from his eyes.

The Joker had no mercy. He violently ripped his switchblade out of the man's mouth through his cheek.

I looked away with a pained grimace and then started running. My Skechers slammed full force into forming puddles on the street. The water splashed onto my leather pants, but it only slipped off, keeping me dry. Not like I cared at that moment. I felt the rain dripping on my head, but by the blurriness in my eyes, I knew that it wasn't just water that was running down my face.

As I turned the corner onto the next street, I heard someone calling my name. I kept running, diving into the first alley that I came to. My foot slipped on water, and I fell to the ground, only to scramble back to my feet to continue running. I ran straight into a deadend, and I stayed there, gazing up into the night sky, blinking as raindrops hit my eyes.

Overwhelming despair flooded through me, bringing a rapid swirl of emotions. I smashed my fists against the brick wall, crying out in agony with the hit, with my emotions, with _him_. I couldn't believe that _he_ was here in Gotham City. Of _all_ places, _here_!

"Shadow?"

"Leave me alone, Joker!" I yelled in anguish as I spun, turning my back on the wall. "I can't _believe_ you _did_ that to that poor man…"

"I wasn't going to let him get _away_ with _speak_-ing to you like that-ah," the Joker growled in response. "And I thought I told you-."

"I don't care if you want to be called 'Mister J' or 'Joker'. It's irrelevant!"

"What's _wrong_, Shadow?" the Joker demanded from the exit of the alley.

"What do you mean 'what's wrong'?"

"Ex-_act_-ly what I _said_." I just blinked, looking up at the rain again. I heard the Joker's footsteps in the water on the ground, and I lowered my eyes, watching him advance, looking like he was stalking toward me…with care…

"Don't come near me," I said, struggling against my conflicting emotions. My voice was small, so he might not have heard me. The Joker didn't slow his approach. My heart pounded with fear as the purple-clad Clown Prince of Crime drew nearer. I stepped back, pressing against the brick wall. The Joker slowed as he reached a short distance away from me, and he halted directly in front of me.

I stared into his eyes for a few moments, seeing a strange emotion glinting in the Joker's brown orbs. I felt a drawing to that emotion that struggled against many others inside the man standing in front of me.

"Shadow…" the Joker whispered, his scarred lips hardly moving. He was leaning toward me, placing his hands on the brick wall on either side of my head. My heart pounded furiously as the Joker's breath mingled with mine, his lips brushing mine.

I couldn't take it; I had no control. My hand rose and slapped him across the face. Even as his head jerked to the side, tears sprung up in my eyes. Then, I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder, and I sobbed, choking on my tears.

I clung to the Joker tightly, trembling against him. He hesitated, before giving in and wrapping his arms around me just as firmly. I felt like a child in his strong embrace, enclosed in his warmth and his scent. I inhaled deeply, smelling a mixture of him and the rain that pounded on our heads.

"This isn't like you," I cried, pressing my cheek to his shoulder.

"You don't see…_me_…twenty-four seven."

I laughed weakly. "Who are you and what did you do with the Joker?" I asked.

The Joker chuckled softly, his laughter rumbling through his chest, and I smiled lightly. I felt him push me back against the wall, and I looked up at him, raising a hand to wipe my eyes.

The Joker stopped me and then brushed my eyes gently with his gloved hand. "You've got _water_ in your eyes."

I laughed, in spite of myself.

The Joker took my hand and started toward the alley mouth, but I pulled away. He stopped and half-turned, tilting his head with curiosity at my refusal.

"I can't go back," I said quietly, stepping back against the wall again.

"Why _not_?" he asked.

"Not yet…" I brushed my hair back, out of my eyes and then looked at him. "I'll meet you there. I've just had…had lots of things happen tonight." The memory of me making out with the man before me flashed across my mind, followed by the sight of the man I hated _most_, with a _passion_. "I need to clear my head."

The Joker blinked, narrowing his eyes slightly. He played with his scarred mouth for a few moments as he thought over his decision. I expected him to say "no" and to make me go back with him, but the Joker's middle name is…'_unpredictable_'.

"I want you back _before_ one," he said. "If you're _late_…" He took out the switchblade he had used on the truck driver, the blade still blood covered. As he turned it in his hands, I understood the point he was trying to make. His eyes lifted from the bloodied blade, catching mine, and I gave him a small nod.

The Joker's scarred lips stretched into his infamous Glasgow smile. He closed his switchblade before turning on his heel and leaving me alone in the alley.

Four hours of walking out in the rain did _nothing_ to help me, but I returned to the warehouse, soaked through and feeling cold. The Joker was waiting for me in the main hangar, sitting on the van's hood. When he spotted me, he slid off, shaking out of his jacket.

"No, Joker, I don't-," I started to protest, but he placed finger over my mouth, silencing me. He took my soaked jacket off me and replaced it with his own. A second later, he had me cradled in his arms, carrying me up the stairs and down the hall to our shared bedroom.

He left the room to let me change my wet clothes and then returned when I was crawling under the blankets. I had my back facing the door and him so I didn't see why he was hesitating, but he eventually slipped under the covers with me.

Before I fell asleep, I rolled over and curled into him, shivering but gradually relaxing as his intense body heat seeped into my cold skin.

It came to no surprise when I awoke and found the Joker gone. Since he had left me with his jacket, I doubted he had left the building. I didn't want to get out of bed. I felt sick to my stomach, my heart twisted in my chest.

Despite the sickness, I crawled out of bed and went into the bathroom, taking the Joker's jacket with me, draped over my shoulders. Splashing cold water on my face and down my neck didn't help, but at least I had tried.

The bedroom door opened, and a gust of wind moved into the room, causing me to shiver.

"Shadow?" His voice sounded confused, like he expected me to still be in bed.

"In here." I had left the bathroom door open so I could see his expression reflecting in the mirror. Two seconds later, the clown stood in the doorway, looking at me strangely.

"You okay?" he asked, eyebrows lowered into a frown under the black mascara.

I was leaning over the sink, my hands grasping the edge tightly. My eyes were closed as I rocked myself slightly. It _hurt_. My chest felt like pressure was building from my heart.

I flinched when I felt a pair of strong hands grabbed my waist gently. For a second, the pain disappeared, vanishing and allowing me to breathe. But a second is only as long as a second, and the pain came crashing in again, restricting my breathing ability. I couldn't stop the tears that slipped from my eyes because of my chest pain.

One of his hands slid down from my waist, reaching down to my knees before he slipped his arm under them. He picked me up, cradling me, and that only made the pain worse as everything was restricted more. I muffled a cry of agony by burying my face into his shoulder as he carried me over to the bed. He sat down, holding me in his lap.

"Shadow…" he breathed, his voice gentle, soothing.

But it didn't help the pain. "Don't," I said, weakly struggling in his arms. "I can't…need to…" I was panting with the effort to breathe, and the pain became worse. My chest felt crushed in his arms, filled with unbearable pressure.

A cool hand touched my forehead, causing me to shiver. "You're warm," he stated, placing his fingers to my cheek. "Shadow, feeling okay?"

I looked up at him, positive that he could see the pain and fever in my eyes. "It's nothing," I said, meekly. "It's happened before…" I trailed off, closing my eyes. He shifted his hold on me and laid me on the bed. I stretched out, relieving some of the pressure, but making myself more vulnerable to the coldness in the air around me. To keep my body heat, I slipped my arms into the clown's jacket sleeves.

Something clicked on the nightstand close to my head, but I didn't react to it. The bed lowered a bit as the Joker climbed up beside me, lying on his side and pulling me into him. I let him, feeling drained of energy.

We lied there for a long time, the minutes ticking by unnoticed. The pressure continued to ease away as I focused all my thoughts on the man holding me. He gave me plenty to pay attention to with his constant movement; he was restless but seemed content to stay.

"You don't have to babysit me," I mumbled, my lips barely moving.

"I'm _not_," he growled, irritated. I had interrupted whatever thoughts were racing through his head, and I hoped they weren't related to _me_. "You're an adult. _You_ can take care of yourself. If I was babysitting you, I'd have made you drink something _awhile_ ago." A smile stretched over his scarred lips. "Actually, I'd have forced it down your throat."

"Is _that_ what you were thinking of?" I asked, turning my head and noticing the glass of water sitting on the nightstand. I licked my dry lips, propping myself up on my elbows to reach for the glass as I said, "You're thinking of different ways to _hurt_ me? Mad at me for getting sick?"

The Joker watched me, his eyes wide, as I drained the glass of water, setting it back on the table and propping my back against the headboard, leaning my head back to the wall. "Why would you _think_ that, Shadow?" he asked. "When was the last time I _hurt_ you?"

I noticed that he wasn't denying my accusation. "You talking physical, mental, or emotional?" Under my eyelashes, I caught him wincing.

"How 'bout you name each one?" he said, hesitantly as he turned onto his stomach, his chin in his hand, his elbow propping him.

I heaved a deep sigh and said, "I don't know if I _should_ tell you."

"I've been nothing but honest with you, Shadow," he pressed. "It's been the same the other way around. Don't break the record _now_."

"You weren't honest about your _first_ scar story."

"But I made _up_ for it," he protested, lifting his head.

I closed my eyes, heaving a sigh of irritation. "Don't you have someone _else_ to bother?"

"I figured I'd give Bleak a break."

Opening my eyes, I arched an eyebrow at him. "I'm not the _only_ one you bother? What did Bleak do to _you_?"

A smirk appeared on his face, waving his hand dismissively. I took that as the only answer he was going to give me: _None of your business_.

"You haven't answered my question," he said.

"Which _one_?"

"About hurting you."

I rested my head back against the wall again. "Can't remember physical hurting anywhere…but mental and emotional…" I refused to look at him. "Both were last night."

"The truck driver?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"No…" I turned my head away, unwilling to state the reason.

The Joker shifted beside me, pushing himself up and sliding up against the headboard beside me. His hand found mine, and he intertwined his fingers with mine. I felt his warm breath on my neck as he brought his lips to my ear. "You can tell me, Shadow. You said so yourself, when you told me your theory about me" – I nodded, remembering how he had stormed out afterwards – "You considered me a friend because…I understood you better than anyone _else_ you knew, better than, ah, your best friend."

I drew my legs into my chest, hugging them as I rested my chin on my knees. The pressure in my chest was still there, but it felt more like someone pushing a hand on me, something I could bear. "I hope you're not just using that because you _want_ to know," I said quietly. "I take that seriously when I call someone a friend. I haven't had many, especially not since I was used by the Mob."

The Joker lowered his lips from my ear to my neck. "You think I'm _that_ kinda guy?"

"I don't know _what_ to think," I snapped, aggravated, as I jerked away from him. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me back against him. Without saying anything, he pressed his head against mine, like a dog nuzzling its owner. I shoved his face away with a hand, but he came back, this time burying his face into my vulnerable neck.

My resolve to ignore him broke as he pressed his lips to the curve between my neck and shoulder. I stiffened, unable to take this particular behavior from the _Joker_, of all people. He trailed up my neck, making me squirm. I felt a smile stretch over his scarred lips as he hesitated under my jaw.

"You shouldn't be doing that," I manage to say. "I'm sick."

"It's just ah _fever_," he mumbled, his words reverberating in my throat. I shivered and tried again to pull away, but his grip was firm, especially when he wrapped his other arm around me. He leaned to the side and forward, and even though I tried not to, I fell with him onto his side.

A giggle rumbled through him as he slid his legs under mine, kicking himself and I away from the headboard. Then, he shifted underneath me, turning onto his back and rotating me so that I laid on top of him, facing him.

"No," I protested sharply, pushing away from him. He tightened his embrace on me, and barked with laughter at my resistance.

"You look _worried_, Shadow," he laughed. "What's the, ah, _prob_-lem?"

"I don't _like_ this," I growled, pushing against the bed again. The Joker had the advantage over me, being stronger and being the _healthy_ one. I continued to struggle against his hold until I collapsed atop him, pretty much _sprawled_ over him, causing him to giggle cheerfully. "Joker, this isn't _funny_," I snapped.

His shoulders moved in a shrug as he was busy laughing harder. I placed my hands on the bed at either side of his head and pushed myself up a bit so I could see his face, enough so that he wasn't tightening his hold to keep me down. The Joker watched me with curious eyes, his mouth twitching with a smile.

I glared at him. "You're _enjoying_ this, _aren't_ you?"

"'Course I am," he giggled.

"Well, _I'm_ not, and I'd appreciate it if you'd let me _go_."

"All _right_-ah." I blinked with surprise as he released me, clasping his hands and placing them behind his head. He played with his mouth, blinking back at me for a few seconds before lowering his eyebrows. "Yah gonna get off?"

I rolled myself off him, landing on my back, but I dragged myself back to the headboard, using it as a back support.

My eyes didn't leave the Joker, lying there calmly beside me. I didn't understand him, particularly not today. I couldn't comprehend his emotions; he seemed calm, gentle, and, well, _playful_…like a puppy, though a puppy-dog wouldn't be this calm. There was a possibility that this was just the calm before the storm, but for some unknown reason, I doubted that. The fact that he seemed _content_ to just stay here and lie on the bed, with me beside him…

Something must be different. That could be the only reason. Something happened earlier while I was sleeping that made him happy, cheerful like this. This wasn't his usual happy self, but it was still _him_, just…happier. It made me wonder if Batman had come for a friendly visit – though that was _clearly_ impossible since Batman was bent on throwing the Joker into Arkham so that he didn't have to worry about him for a few months.

I threw my legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for an elastic on my nightstand. Pulling my hair back, I stood up and moved around the bed, heading for the door. I was about two feet from it when I heard the bed creak violently and within a flash, the Joker was standing between me and the door.

By then, I had finished putting up my hair, and I let my hands drop to my hips, tilting my head back slightly to look him in the eyes. "Any reason why you're _blocking_ the door, Mistah J?"

His brow frowned suspiciously. "You're not going to, ah, to _rest_?"

"Can't," I said with a shrug. "I'm wide awake. I'm not going to feel tired for a bit." He opened his mouth to protest, but I quickly put a finger to his lips, cocking my head slightly and narrowing my eyes. "Besides, didn't you say earlier that I was an adult, capable of taking care of myself?"

He was speechless for a moment and then grinned, his lips tickling my finger. His arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me into his chest comfortably. Moving his head so his mouth was freed from my finger, he asked, "Wanna go out?"

"Not when I'm _sick_," I laughed, hoping he didn't take it seriously.

"Don't worry, it'd be _fun_," he said cheerfully, reaching behind him and opening the door. I smiled, glad he didn't take what I had said seriously. Letting him lead me, I simply watched his face, the pressure in my chest vanishing completely as I particularly glowed inside at seeing the Joker happy like this.

It was unique to see the Joker this happy. He giggled loudly as he bounced down the hallway, at a pace I could keep up with. Stopping suddenly, he jerked on my arm and bent down, swiping an arm underneath me and sweeping me up into his arms. I gasped with surprise, clinging to his neck, causing him to laugh at my lack of trust as he raced down the rest of the hallway.

However, his laughter cut off, and he halted abruptly when he reached the metal catwalk. Curious as to why, I turned my head, looking down to locate the reason. The Joker set me on my feet and dropped his hold on me completely. I released him too, stepping forward and gripping the railing, leaning forward slightly as I located the reason for his sudden stop.

The Riddler, who was leaning casually against a red Mercedes, straightened as he looked up at us, resting a hand over his curved cane handle, the other reaching for the green bowler hat with a black question mark resting on his head. "Greetings, Joker," he called, tipping his hat slightly. "I hope I didn't _interrupt_ anything."

Beside me, the Joker stiffened, and I looked at him, seeing his expression visibly darken. He didn't take his eyes off of the Riddler as he headed down the stairs, taking them two steps at a time. I quickly moved after him, but once he hit the landing, he held up a hand to motion me to stop. Confused, I obeyed, watching him as he sauntered over to where the Riddler waited.

As soon as he reached him, the Joker leaped forward and grabbed the Riddler by the front of his green jacket, slamming him back against the Mercedes. Worried that he was going to lose it, I shadowed closer, standing ten feet away from them so I could hear them.

"There's a _difference_ between you and me, _Edward_," the Joker growled, his eyes narrowed dangerously. He held his switchblade to the Riddler's mouth, testing him. "Unlike you, _I_ can control my, ah, _impulses_."

"Control them?" the Riddler said, arching an eyebrow under his eyemask. He winced as the Joker slammed him against the Mercedes again.

"Do you want your _other_ hand broken?" the Joker demanded with a growl.

"No, _one's_ bad enough, thanks," the Riddler said, grudgingly as if he lifted his free hand, showing how the red glove covering it looked a bit bulkier.

The Joker's eyes darted past him, looking into the Mercedes' windows. "You came _alone_?" he barked. "Do you have a _death_ wish?"

"Not in particular," the other criminal replied, cooly. "But I have a _different_ reason to come here." The clown's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "It's just not for _you_." That drew an angry growl from the madman.

"What's your reason then?" I asked, stepping forward. The Riddler's eyes darted towards me, a smirk making its way on his face.

"You probably shouldn't let the woman wear your _jacket_, clown," the Riddler said to the Joker. "It gives people the wrong _impression_ about you two."

"What do _I_ care about what people think?" the Joker demanded.

"I know _you_ don't care, but what about _Shadow_? Ever bothered to ask how _she_ felt about the possible rumors."

"The rumors can run from mouth to mouth," I said, breaking into the conversation again. "It doesn't bother me, even if they _are_ incorrect." I hadn't heard any rumors, but I had a creative imagination so I could just _image_ what people could be saying about the Joker and I, being a couple. "People can believe what they want. The Joker and I are partners-in-crime, nothing more. Doesn't matter what people say, the only ones to know the _real_ truth are us and now, if you believe us, _you_. So enough of the chit-chat, Riddler."

The Riddler whistled. "Quite an intelligent one," he commented. "I just wish you were working for _me_, not him." He jerked his head at the Joker, forgetting the clown had a knife to his face. With a startled gasp, the Riddler jerked away, a thin line of blood seeping slowly from a wound on his cheek.

"Don't cry, Riddler," I remarked. "It's only a scratch."

The Joker, unable to contain himself, started laughing as the Riddler glared in my direction. "I think it'd be better if Shadow stays with _me_, Edward," he told the other criminal. "You, being a very _serious_ guy, probably couldn't handle her _sarcasm_." He cackled with laughter as he shoved the Riddler away from him, knocking him into the Mercedes again as he stepped back. "Now, what are you _here_ for, Edward?"

"I came to talk to Shadow," the Riddler explained, straightening his jacket. "As I already told you, I'm not here for you, _especially_ not after you broke my hand."

"Don't take it _personally_," I advised him. "Mister J does it on a whim." I glanced at the Joker, seeing that he was giving me a stern look. "Unless it's _you_, I guess." Turning my head back, I said, "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"I'd rather say it in _private_."

The Joker stepped forward threateningly, but I threw out an arm, blocking him from the Riddler. With a serious look, I said, "What you have to say to me can be heard by _his_ ears too."

He chuckled, a deep sounding laugh that failed to hide his nervousness. "No offense, but are you being a _little_ too cautious?"

"I'm not afraid of you, Riddler," I said darkly, "I just don't _trust_ you." I narrowed my eyes as he opened his mouth to speak. "Believe me; it's _rare_ that I trust someone anymore. Mister J here was _lucky_." With a slight smile, I added, "And per-_sis_-tent." Behind me, he giggled softly, amused by my mimicry of how he spoke, empathizing only part of the word.

His eyes darting between me and the Joker, the Riddler reached up and tightened his necktie slightly. "Very well, if that's how you want to play this game-."

"That's how I _intend_ to play it," I shot in, causing the Joker to erupt with laughter, like I had made some witty remark – which I _had_.

The Riddler's expression darkened slightly, and he took a step forward. That step was all he took before a gun barrel was pointed directly in his face. The Joker had mimicked my stance, his arm hovering over my right shoulder as he held the weapon at his puzzling rival.

"She annoys you _just_ as fast as _I_ do," the Joker giggled, clearly enjoying how the Riddler was reacting. "You _definitely_ wouldn't be able to handle her, if she worked with you, or even _for_ you. She tends to speak her mind _quite_ often." He smirked, his tongue sliding out to the beginning of a scar. "But like Shadow's said, enough of the chit-chat, and speak your _own_ mind before something _happens_ to it." He quirked an eyebrow. "Maybe ah-_nother_ magic trick I haven't shown you yet?"

The Riddler's eyes lifted from the gun to the Joker's, and his narrowed. He had no response to the clown's question, so he didn't give one. Then, his gaze flickered to mine. Stepping back, his eyes intent on mine, the Riddler cleared his throat. "It is, and it is not. It is here, but it is not. It is this, and it is that. It covers the green-eyed one. It is vigilant, brightly colored, overseen by a personage of brilliance. It is guardian. It seeks the harmless being that exists in light and dark. Diligent, it comes, for fear of rivalry. It wants one thing, but wants not another. One it is; multiple it is not, but it is. The bird in is its preparation, unless feather plucked."

* * *

**Lordlink13: There's chapter 29 for ya all. Just thought I'd warn you all now, school's starting up again, but it's not just school, it's **_**college**_**. So I can't guarantee that I'll be able to keep up with the chapter a week, especially this week since I'm packing up and getting ready to go. Not to mention that you all caught up to me in writing chapters – I used to be ahead by at least two chapters, but now all I have in store is literally **_**nothing**_**. I promise to try to get the next chapter up by next Sunday, but please don't be angry with me if I miss the deadline. I honestly had hoped I'd be able to finish this story before I started my education again, but I guess that didn't work out. I'll keep working on this, but I don't want to make a promise that I might not be able to keep. The only guarantee I can give you is that I **_**will**_** finish this story. I don't like leaving people hanging.**


	30. It Can Wait

Reticence and mystification resided so heavily in the hangar that I could particularly breathe them. We were transfixed, frozen in time, the Joker, the Riddler, and I. Still standing behind me, a step to the side with his arm resting on my shoulder, the Joker breathed heavily, his breath blowing on my neck. When the Riddler started to move, the Joker's finger twitched on the trigger, enough to pull it. I slapped my hand on it, causing him to space between the Riddler's feet.

The Riddler jumped, a startled cry escaping his lips, as I shoved the Joker back. The gunfire had broken the frozen moment.

"I appreciate your warning, Riddler," I said, evenly as I struggled to keep the Joker behind me. He wasn't fighting me, but at that moment where he was close to me, I could feel his struggle in keeping his rage under control. My physical resistance was the only thing keeping him in line. I half-turned and grabbed the Joker's hand, ripping the gun away before I turned back to the Riddler. "But you should go…before my partner decides to perform that magic trick he wants to show you."

The Riddler took a step back, a worried expression crossing his face. I stared him down until he cleared his throat uncomfortably and turned his back. The Joker slipped past me and mercilessly slammed into him from behind, smashing his head against the top of the car, nearly breaking the driver window. I let the Joker trap the Riddler against the car, deciding that I didn't want to risk getting too involved, but I did walk up behind the clown and place my hand on his shoulder calmly.

The Joker turned his head, fury burning in his eyes, but he narrowed his eyes with confusion and curiosity when he saw my serenity, hesitating.

"It wasn't a threat, Joker," I told him.

"How do _you_ know?" the Joker growled, pressing the Riddler's face into the car, hard.

"It's a warning. _That_ much I know. Let him go."

The Joker hesitated, narrowing his eyes, reluctant to obey me. I expected him to argue, but he released the Riddler without a word, just a sudden smack down on the car before he dropped the green-clad criminal on the ground.

"You've made your point," I murmured as the Joker stepped backwards, away from the Riddler. I made no move to assist the criminal to his feet, watching him lean against his car for a moment, eyes searching for mine before they focused. I held his gaze for a few seconds before turning on my heel and walking away, hearing the Riddler making his hasty departure.

I heard a growl behind me, and I turned, seeing the Joker glaring after his rival. He didn't look happy, all of the cheer and bouncing from earlier was gone without a trace. "What do you think that was?" I asked.

"A load of crud, put into fancy _riddle_ form." The Joker scoffed. "I told him be-_fore_…people like jokes better than riddles." He spun on his heel and started away.

Blinking with surprise, I called out. "Where are _you_ going?"

"To blow something up," he replied without looking back.

I arched an eyebrow but decided not to press. I could tell by how stiffly he held himself that now wasn't the time to pester him. He reached the stairs and raced up two steps at a time, holding onto both railings to keep his balance, and upon reaching the top, he simply disappeared down the hall without looking back.

I stood there in the hangar, looking around. Boy, I felt like an idiot, not knowing what to do for once. Finally, I gave up and walked over to my car, slipping into the driver's seat and finding a notepad and pen from the glove compartment.

From memory, I jotted down the riddle and then simply sat there and stared at it. I knew that wasn't going to help, but what else was I going to do? I loved solving puzzles, but riddles were the only puzzles I _hated_, cause they gave me headaches from my mind whirling in circles.

When the headache came on, I leaned my seat back and rested the notepad on my lap, turning my head and closing my eyes, running the words through my head.

Next thing I knew, I heard something rapping on the window, and I opened my eyes to see Dean looking in at me. With a groan, I pulled the seat back up as he pulled open the door.

"Sorry to bother you, Shadow," he said, casually leaning on the door.

"It's fine," I mumbled, digging my palms into my eyes. "I must've dosed off."

"Whatever you were doing seems to have bored you senseless," Dean joked.

I blinked and then frowned as my gaze dropped to the notepad in my lap. With a frustrated groan, I tossed it onto the passenger's seat and rubbed my face.

"Didn't look like something fun at all."

"It's a riddle," I told him. "The Riddler came by to warn me, but gave me the warning in his own language." I held a hand to my forehead, and I murmured, "It's giving me a headache."

"Then stop." Dean reached up and grabbed my hand, but at the same time, his hand brushed my forehead. "Whoa!" I leaned back, trying to keep my head away from him, but he managed to touch my forehead again, in the process leaning into the car and over me. "Do you have a _fever_?" he asked, worried.

I sighed, defeated before I shoved him off my and out of the car. "Yes, I do, as a matter of fact," I said, grabbing the notepad and stepping out of my Toyota. "And before you tell me I should be resting, I _can't_." I slammed my car door shut and walked away, but Dean hurried to catch up.

"Shadow, before I came, you were sleeping."

"Just resting my eyelids," I said, curtly. Then, I halted and turned toward him. Dean stopped beside me, looking concerned. "Are you good at mysteries, Dean?"

"You're talking to the guy who can hardly remember his own identity," he replied, lifting up his hands.

"Read this," I ordered, hitting him in the chest with the notepad, "And tell me what you think it means." I released the pad, and started away, leaving him to attempt catching the notepad before it touched the floor. He managed it and came running after me.

He followed me down the stairs from the hangar where the hidden basement – which was more of a room than an actual basement – was. I proceeded down the wooden steps, each one creaking under my weight, and upon reaching the bottom, I reached up and pulled the string to the lightbulb, illuminating the room.

The walls were plastered, the floor cement. Three cushions resided in various corners of the room, acting as the Rottweilers' beds for the night, or for the day, depending on what the Joker had in mind. The last corner held a table and a wooden chair, which someone like Dean used to rest when he decided to play with the dogs rather than succumb to boredom.

I moved straight for the table, sat down on the wooden chair, and lifted my feet up on the surface. Leaning back until the chair was supported by the wall, I rested my head back and closed my eyes.

The table creaked slightly under Dean's weight as he sat down near my feet. I waited a good minute before asking, "What do you think?"

He jumped, startled by my voice. "How did you know I was done?" he asked. I simply shrugged, keeping my eyes closed. "It looks like a bunch of gibberish, honestly. How long ago has it been?"

I opened my eyes to check my wristwatch. "An hour, maybe two," I sighed, closing my eyes again.

"You've been simply staring at it for about an hour…you didn't bother to separate the clues."

"What?"

"You have to understand that a riddle's meant to trick you," Dean explained. "The most obvious answer isn't it. Think about it. Say I give you the riddle, 'What breathes, but doesn't have a mouth?' The word 'breath' tends to lead you into thinking that the answer would be either an animal or a human, because breathing is a human characteristic. Riddles give unanimated objects human characteristics to trick you."

"So," I began, "Something that breathes, that's not a living being…that doesn't have a mouth." I opened my eyes and looked at him. "Fire?"

"That's correct," he said, grinning. "That's _one_ trick to solving a riddle. Another one is to break up the clues. You wrote the whole riddle as one thing. Here." He took the pen and started scribbling away before handing the pad to me. He had rewritten the riddle so that each sentence was on its own line. "You have to focus on one clue at a time, write possible answers for each line, and then see what answer keeps coming, that fits each clue."

I glanced at the first line and narrowed my eyes. "Basically, you figure it out clue by clue," I said.

Dean nodded as he crossed his arms over his chest, watching me.

"But the first clues are all about contradictions. 'It is, and it is not. It is here, but it is not. It is this, and it is that.' Like the object of the riddle is confused of who, or what, it is."

"Good start," Dean said.

"Maybe it's you." I arched an eyebrow at him. "Do you plan to do something _bad_ to me?"

"Only if you get on my nerves," he chuckled. "The thing about riddles is that they can be filled with words that have multiple meanings. Like the fourth line, 'the green-eyed one'."

"Jealousy," I said, suddenly. "And by covering, it means-."

"Hiding, keeping secret." Dean raised an eyebrow. "So, it's secretive, 'brightly colored'…the boss?"

"No, it's 'overseen by a personage of brilliance'." I clicked my tongue. "It's one of the guys who work for the Joker." Dean and I looked at one another, eyes narrowed.

But neither of us could speak as suddenly, the three Rottweilers came charging down the stairs, barking their heads off. Dean slid off the table to confront them while I quickly jotted down the meanings of half the riddle's lines.

"Sorry, Shadow," he apologized.

"Don't worry about it," I said, tearing the page off the notepad and storing it in my pocket. "I'm just gonna lock myself up in a room." I thought for a moment and then added, "After getting myself a waterbottle or something."

"For the fever? Drink, Shadow."

"Of course, _Dad_." He smirked as I headed up the stairs.

I had just reached the bedroom I shared with the Joker when I heard glass shattering and a short cry of pain. Turning my head in alert, I saw the door at the end of the hallway fly open, smashing into the wall and leaving it with a hole. I barely caught sight of something green and blue racing out of the room and around the corner.

Pressing my forehead to the door, I heaved a sigh, knowing who it was. I stood there, waiting until he returned, turning back around the corner, walking as he wrapped his hand up in a bandage.

"Did you do it on purpose or by accident?" I asked, turning so my side leaned against the bedroom door.

The Joker looked up, eyes wide with surprise. When he spotted me, his brown eyes narrowed. "I knocked over the glass," he growled.

"I was _just_ asking," I said, holding up my hands defensively as I turned back to the door.

"What are you doing?" he asked as I turned the doorknob.

I glanced over my shoulder. "I believe I have a _fever_…in case you've _forgotten_." He straightened, his expression hardening, insulted. I opened the door and headed in, swinging the door closed behind me. Well, _almost_ closed as he gave in right behind me.

I sat down on my side of the bed, my back facing him as I pulled off my shoes, kicking them into the wall under the windows. As I pulled out my hair elastic, I glanced down at myself and realized I was still wearing the Joker's jacket. "You want your jacket back?" I asked over my shoulder.

"No…don't want to ruin it." He had moved into the bathroom and had turned on the faucet. I turned my head to see his face distort in pain as he hissed, holding his hand under the running water. I felt so detached from my emotions. The Joker was in pain, and I didn't feel anything.

I lied down, resting my head on the pillow. It seemed like the moment I closed my eyes, I lost consciousness, yet I was still aware of the Joker moving about the room once he was done wrapping his hand again. I twitched when glass clicked on the nightstand beside me, like earlier, but he rested a hand gently on my forehead, measuring my current temperature. It had risen in the few hours I had been awake, and I shivered at the touch of his surprisingly cold touch.

"Too much…_activity_ for one day," he murmured. The bed sank next to me, on his side, and I felt his arms wrap around me, a sharp intake of breath coming from him when he moved his injured hand.

"Don't…" I mumbled sleepily.

"I'm here, Shadow," he whispered, running his hand through my hair. His voice was fading as I fell deeper into sleep. His mere presence was calming, comforting. My thoughts slowed, but before I truly lost consciousness, I wondered if there was a reason behind the Joker's reactions toward me.

Like usual, when I awoke, he was gone, but I had an idea of where he was located. He had placed another glass of water on the nightstand, and I drained it before I pulled on my shoes, heading out the room.

I approached the door at the end of the hallway and waited, feeling like I shouldn't be doing this. I didn't have enough curiosity, but I also didn't have enough fear to keep me away. Resting my hand on the doorknob, I leaned forward and pressed my ear to the door, listening for any odd noises. There was an uneven clicking sound from inside, but that was it so I turned the doorknob slowly and slipped inside.

The room was very small, close to being like the tech room in the Joker's old hideout. A mattress was propped against the wall for sleeping. A number of screens lined the bookcases, all of them off for the time being. The Joker sat at a desk, working on an object. His back faced the door and me, his form hunched over what he was working on.

I slipped up behind him and gazed over his shoulder. He was using a screwdriver, putting his project together. To me, it looked like some kind of remote. The Joker appeared completely unaware of my presence standing behind him; his focus was all on the remote-object. I laughed softly when I wrapped my arms around his neck from behind, causing him to jump at the sudden touch.

"Did I _scare_ you?" I whispered teasingly into his ear.

"Scare me? No, but _startle_ me, yes." He rested the object and screwdriver on the table, and he turned his head to look at me. "How long?"

"Maybe a minute," I replied, honestly. "What are you working on?" He shrugged, and I narrowed my eyes. "You don't _know_?"

"Not a clue." I caught his mouth twitching with amusement and shook my head.

"Like I'm gonna believe that."

"You _should_." He pushed the object to the side and clasped his hands together, resting them on the tabletop. His left hand was red and swollen, like it had been burned. I reached forward, but he saw it coming and moved his hand out of my reach.

"What did you do?"

"I told you, I knocked the glass over."

"And the glass contained what?"

He hesitated and then answered, "Acid."

I winced and looked at his hand again, realizing how shiny it looked. "What did you put on it?"

"A basic…to neutralize the acid."

"Is it helping?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't _hurt_ as much." I reached for his hand again, slowly, and this time, he didn't pull away, letting me touch his swollen skin. A flash of the pain shot through my own hand, but it lasted only a second as I flinched away. "Can't control the shadow memories, hm?" the Joker teased as he reached into a drawer and took out bandaging.

I rubbed my forehead, feeling the beginning of a headache. "Seems like it works very well for _you_," I said, watching him as he wrapped his hand with the minimul of bandaging before grabbing one of his leather gloves from the side to cover his hand. "What? You don't want to look the same as the Riddler?"

The Joker raised his injured hand, turning it so I got a good view. "It's not as _bulky_ as his."

"The similiarity is that _you_ caused each hand injury," I teased him, smirking.

He lowered his head, looking up at me from underneath his white brow, giving me a menacing look, one that didn't faze me anymore. I continued to smile as I stepped behind him and placed my hands on his shoulders, rubbing my thumbs into his muscles. He visibly relaxed at my touch, groaning quietly as I worked my fingers into his shoulder muscles feeling how _tense_ he was.

It made me curious. Had he always been like this before I arrived in Gotham? I moved my fingers closer to the base of his neck, receiving a pleasant, "Mmm," from him. It almost made me laugh, but I forced it back, my thoughts wandering in a different direction.

Suddenly, the Joker grabbed me and pressed his lips to mine. Caught by surprise, I couldn't resist as he pulled me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around my waist. The kiss brought back memories of the prior night, and with the memories came the emotions. I gasped, feeling like my breath had been knocked out of me, and before I could inhale, the Joker came back at me so furiously that our combined weight, leaning forward, caused his chair to fall out from underneath him.

We fell on the floor, him landing on me, but the kiss didn't break, the pain in my back mixing with the pleasure. I grabbed his face with both hands, pushing him away from me just enough so I could breathe. His lips were on mine within a flash, and I breathed in him.

He made the effort to prop himself on his arms rather than lay his weight on me, his hands grabbing at my face. Mine slipped up into his green curls, feeling just _right_ there. His mouth moved aggressively against mine, sending rapid pulses of pleasure through me. I let my hands slid down his neck, and he pulled away slightly, a moan escaping him.

He lowered a hand to my side and farther down to my thigh, where he moved my leg over his. I gasped for air as his lips trailed away from mine, moving over to my ear and down my neck. My hands clenched, grabbing handfuls of his vest, and he smiled, his scars moving against my skin.

I couldn't concentrate on anything, but him. I felt so aware of every movement he made, where his hands and lips were. Overcoming my shock from the beginning, I released his vest and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. A moan of pleasure, from my lips, made him giggle, his leg jerking with intent on its own. His foot connected with the mattress against the wall, and it tipped over, falling flat beside us.

With a violent twist of his body, the muscles in his forearms tightening, the Joker rolled onto his back, pulling me with him and particularly throwing me onto the mattress without him. I bounced on it, and I sat up, unable to stop the laughter that burst from me. The Joker joined me as he turned over and got to his hands and knees, before he lunged and knocked me down on the mattress, trapping me underneath him.

I couldn't stop laughing, tears running down my face. The Joker giggled, grinning widely at my sudden openness, and he lowered himself over me, holding his upper body up with his forearms. Between laughs, I took a deep breath, trying to cut off the laughter. The Joker was patient, stroking my hair while he waited.

When I had regained my composure, he said, "Have I ever told you that I _love_ it when you laugh?"

"Can't say that I _remember_, if you did," I replied honestly. His tongue slid out over his lower lip, his brown eyes intent on mine. I squinted slightly and asked, "Why?"

"Because, it's so _rare_."

"Like I'm a serious person?"

"_NO_-no-no-no-_no_, Shadow, not at _all_." He played with his mouth, his eyes darting up for a second before returning to mine. "It's just not…_often_." His mouth curved into the Glasgow grin as his face loomed into mine. His lips hovered over mine, brushing them lightly, his breath on my face. I felt his fingers caress my cheek softly before sliding underneath my head, pulling me up towards him. My breath caught in my throat as my mouth connected with his.

The kiss was different from the others, gentle with sweet passion. It was long, but felt like it had lasted for only a short time. After a hasty breath, we came together again. His tongue slid along my bottom lip, tentatively, and without hesitation, I parted my lips. My heart leapt as his tongue touched mine, an overwhelming sensation coursing through me. My fingers slid back into his green-tinted hair as he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me up to a sitting position with him.

We broke the kiss for air, our foreheads pressing against one another. The Joker smiled, panting heavily as he let out a giggle. A grin crossed my lips, letting him have time to laugh, so I could catch my breath.

This experience was different from the prior night. The Joker was gentle with me, seeming to have decided that our relationship was past the rough stage. He twisted and sat down next to me on the mattress, still giggling. Unable to control my emotions, I grabbed his face, turned him towards me, and pressed my mouth to his, cutting off his laughter.

Eagerly, he kissed me back, securing his arms around me, pulling me towards him. I threw a leg over his, sitting in his lap and wrapping my legs around his waist. Our noses rubbed against one another as we kissed, panting heavily. We held one another close, bodies pressed so tightly, so perfectly.

He slid his hands down my back, around to my front, where they worked their way under my shirt, his lips traveling once again down my neck, stealing a moan from me. My hands dropped from his hair, falling to his vest, gripping a button.

Then, there was a knock on the door, a sound that snapped me back to reality. The Joker broke from me instantly and laughed as he took his hands away from me, reaching up and grabbing mine, stopping me from undoing the top button on his vest.

I blinked, confused for a moment by his reaction, like he had sensed that the mood had broken in me. "Sorry," I murmured, suddenly shy as I moved to climb off him.

His laughter cut off, and he pulled me back to him, embracing me, resting his head on my shoulder. I understood what he was telling me, the movement wasn't to bring the mood back, it was his silent way of apologizing. My arms wrapped around his neck as I placed my head on his shoulder, and he rocked me as we hugged, pushing what had happened behind us for the time being.

Then, the Joker pushed me away, holding me out at arm's length, and he grinned, his eyes twinkling. Another knock sounded at the door. The Joker pulled out his waistcoat watch from his pocket and glanced at it, heaving a sigh as he stored it away.

"Appointment?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Un-_for_-tu-nate-_ly_," he growled, suddenly irritated.

I climbed off him and the mattress, letting him pick himself up as I wandered over to the desk. He caught my arm and pulled me back, bringing his face close to mine, bending it down slightly to match my height. For a moment, we stood there, staring, our breath mingling. I wished it wouldn't end, but the Joker broke the silence as he licked his lips quickly.

"I'm gonna need my jacket back," he said quietly.

I lowered my gaze, feeling lost as I slipped my arms out of his jacket, handing it over. He took it and then cupped my chin, my eyes rising to his. He leaned in once more, pressing his lips against mine in a tender kiss before releasing me, snatching his abandoned glove from the desk, and leaving the room, shutting the door quietly behind me.

I stood there, feeling numb to his departing gift. Raising my fingers to my mouth, I could still feel his scarred lips, like he had imprinted them on me. A small glow of happiness rested in my chest, but when I remembered that he had done this to me before, an angry gust of wind killed the cheerful, little flame.

Unhappily, I picked up the tipped chair and straddled it, resting my arms on the back. I sat there for a few seconds, huffing before I remembered the riddle. I pulled the ripped page from my pocket and opened it, flattening it as best as I could and reading the progress that Dean and I had made in less than five minutes.

_It seeks the harmless being that exists in light and dark._ The line was the only one I had understood right away when the Riddler had told me the riddle. Shadows only existed when there was some light and some darkness. Complete darkness, or lightness, didn't allow a shadow to form.

But the word 'seek' caught my eye. Why wouldn't the Riddler tell me that it _searched_ for me? Seek had the definition of to find, to obtain, to search. When the Riddler had said the line, I had the impression that it wasn't 'seek' the word he was saying; I felt that it was more the word 'hunt'. A seeker, someone who searches, like a hunter after his prey…_Hunter_!

I stood up suddenly, and almost tripped over the chair I was straddling. A sense of paranoia flooded over me, and I looked about the room, feeling worried. I hadn't been concerned about him before when I first met him, because at the time, I was trying to escape from the Joker's clutches. And since then, I still hadn't really minded the fact that he didn't like me. Now, I had evidence that the guy, whoever he was, was after me; he wanted me _dead_.

And in the riddle, it was speaking about one of the Joker's henchmen. Did the Joker know Hunter personally and all this time, he had been toying with me, only to have Hunter kill me? If so, the mood we were caught in a few minutes ago was only to _distract_ me.

Frantically, I searched the desk drawers, coming up with a semiautomatic handgun. Gripping it tightly, I moved toward the door and opened it slowly, checking to see if the coast was clear. Then, I bolted down the hallway, toward the hangar. If the Joker hadn't left yet, I could ask him the one question I wanted answered. Did he know Hunter?

I nearly ran right past him. The Joker had come out of another room, shutting the door and locking it with the set of keys he held. He looked startled when I skidded to a stop a few steps down the hallway from him.

As his mouth curled into a smile, I said, "Before you go, I have _one_ question."

"Make it quick, Shadow," he told me. "I don't like being _too_ late to an appointment."

"It's a yes or no question." I took a deep breath, feeling breathless, and then I asked, "Do you know anyone who calls himself Hunter?"

The Joker's eyes narrowed. "Calls himself Hunter? Like that's not his real name?"

"I'm _sure_ it's not his real name."

"No, I haven't heard the name."

"Are you lying to me?"

"That makes _two_ questions, Shadow, but no, I'm not."

I sighed and leaned against the wall, feeling relieved. "Okay, that's reassuring." He raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Don't worry about it," I told him, waving a dismissive hand at him, but he grabbed my wrist, stepping forward until he was almost pressed against me.

"What is it, Shadow?" he asked, seriously.

As I met his eyes, I swallowed nervously. Did he sense my fear, or was he just acting…_protective_? "I said don't worry about it." He tightened his grip on my wrist. "Really, you're going to be late."

"What. _Is_. It?" he growled.

"It can wait," I whimpered as his grip tightened more. His eyes hardened, and I cowered from him, pressing into the wall, wishing I could melt into it. "Um, Mister J…you're hurting me."

He blinked, eyes moving to his hand and my wrist before returning to my gaze. "Are you _sure_?"

"I'm sure," I said, "It can wait."

The Joker released my wrist, and I grabbed it, rubbing it. "Sorry," he apologized before walking around me and down the hall. I half-turned, watching him go until he had turned the corner.

It seemed like our relationship was true, but it was _very_ complicated. Despite him having hurt me a number of times, it was better than what I had received from the men before him, the ones I let myself become close to. Maybe if I stopped keeping secrets from him – like Hunter – we could make this relationship work better than it is. And maybe if he told me more about himself…like who he was in the past…

I shook my head, discarding those thoughts. I felt like the Joker wouldn't be who he is now in my eyes if he told me his past. Besides, I had someone else to focus on. If Hunter planned to kill me, now, while the Joker was gone, would be the best time.

However, as I was about to walk away, I stopped, realizing that the Joker had locked the door he had come from. I turned to it and realized that I didn't know what was in this room. Curiosity set it, and I realized that since the Joker was gone, I could break into any room without him knowing.

Eagerly, I ran to our shared bedroom and pulled out my duffel bag, yanking out my set of picklocks. When I reached the door, I started picking at the lock and had it click in seconds. However, as I touched the doorknob, I realized that there was a possibility that the Joker had locked it for a reason: to keep me out. If that was the reason, I knew what, or I should say _who_, was behind the door.

Lieutenant Jason Hawkins.

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**Lordlink13: Whoa! another intense chapter! I'll be honest, I had this finished before last Sunday, but I decided not to put it up so that I'd have time to settle in without having to panic about getting another chapter up for the next week. I hope you guys liked it. I only **_**just**_** started explaining the riddle. It should make a **_**little**_** more sense now for you readers. Let's make a bargain; you keep up leaving reviews and I'll keep writing. 'Course, we had that going since the beginning, but I wanted to make it more…**_**professional**_** for the sake of it. Until next time, enjoy life!**


	31. You Deserve This

**Lordlink13: Five chapters uploaded on the same day. Why? You'll find out. Enjoy!**

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Lieutenant Hawkins's head jerked up when I entered the room, and I felt the sharpness of the captive's gaze as it pierced through me. I shivered with fear as I closed the door behind me, pressing my back against it. I flicked on the light switch, and a single light fell on Jason who sat tied to a chair in the middle of the room. I watched as his deep blue eyes squinted against the harsh light; I made no move to switch it off or to come into his view.

"Can't be the Joker this time," he said, his voice hoarse. "Who is it?"

I didn't reply, remaining silent. He lowered his head slightly to give his eyes a rest from the light as he said, "I know you're in here. What do you want?"

Still, I didn't speak, busy looking him over, seeing how much he had changed over the past four years. Being a prisoner to the Joker didn't help his state, making him seem weak, feeble. He was only a few months older than I, yet he appeared to be at least thirty. Dark circles rested underneath his blue eyes, and his brown hair hung limply, a natural part showing down the center of his head. His lower lip was swollen and cut, dried blood over the cut. I watched around him, staying near the edge of the room until I checked his wrists, seeing they were cut and puffy from his attempts to break free.

Moving back toward the door, I took a deep breath and said quietly, "You're not looking too good, Jason." He stiffened at the sound of my voice, but he tried to straighten, which proved difficult concerning the situation he was in. "I'm surprised that the Joker didn't just beat you until you were broken and bruised."

"Why are you with him, Jane?" he said.

"I've _told_ you that's not my name, _Hawkins_," I snapped, abruptly.

He chewed his lower lip, wincing as he bit the cut. "I just can't believe that you would sink to such a low level, Shadow."

"It's better than being on the same level as _you_."

He glared in my direction. "Any _other_ level would be fine too."

"It wouldn't satisfy me."

"What has he _done_ to you, Shadow?" Jason asked, in disbelief. "You weren't like this when I first met you. You weren't this…_cold-hearted_."

"And I wasn't as _knowledgeable _of how _cruel_ the world is. You would know, Jason. I didn't have my head on straight; I let my heart lead me in all my decisions. I was a girl who had fallen in love, letting that love _blind_ me from what the man I loved _really_ was."

"I'm not the _only_ one at fault, and you _know_ it," he argued. "We were star-crossed before we were born."

"Don't make a reference to Shakespeare," I growled, "I _hated_ his works."

"You were a criminal, I was a cop."

"A _corrupt_ cop," I corrected.

"Corrupted, yes, but it still wouldn't have worked. We were still enemies. I worked for the police and your boss, the one who disliked you because you _resisted_ him."

I growled. "You're blaming Maximillion for being a cranky old man. He was old enough to be my great-_grandfather_."

"I agree, but he was the one who was paying me. He threatened to expose me to my fellow cops if I didn't get rid of you."

"You got _rid_ of me, all right. You just failed to make it _permanent_."

"I couldn't." His voice broke, and his head dropped shamefully. "I see you haven't forgiven me."

"Why _would_ I?" I demanded. "It's _impossible_ to forgive someone who had loved you – _pretended_ to love you dearly – only to have them leave you _dying_ in some alley!" I realized I was shouting, and I closed my eyes for moment, taking in a forced breath.

"I owe you an explanation and an apology-."

"Not like I'll _accept_ the apology."

"I realize that you hate me, Jane. At least let me explain."

I snorted. "As if there is anything for you to explain…"

"You remember…"

"I remember _every. Little. Detail._ Jason."

He bowed his head as if in shame, and I pushed off the door, walking into the harsh light toward him.

"I remember your words clearly," I said. "I could recite them back to you easily. You told me that you didn't love me, that it was all just part of your duty; you were to break me." I crouched in front of him and lifted his chin so that he had to look at me. "You said you didn't want me alive anymore, which is why you shot me, to be rid of me like I was a broken toy, Jason. You had no qualms for killing me."

Jason swallowed loudly and then said, "Jane, I'm sorry. I had to say the things I did because they were watching me."

"Maximillion's men? The man was _dead_, by then."

"His right-hand man took his place, and you know he didn't like you either. He wanted me to keep the money Max had given me, and he gave me another check to kill you, to make sure I was going to do it."

"You took your job over me. There's no way I can forgive you of being selfish."

Jason sighed, pained, but he wouldn't understand the agony I was enduring at that moment. I had told the Joker before, that love was a noose. For years, I had believed that I had escaped from mine, but it turns out that I haven't.

_Dark, raining…clouds covered the blackness of nighttime, the only lights were streetlamps. Cars drove by five miles per hour lower than the speed limit, their wheels rolling through puddles that sent water splashing up onto the sidewalk. The rain poured down heavily, pattering loudly against the umbrella overhead._

"I want to tell you…even if you don't believe me, that you meant _everything_ to me," he said.

I shook my head, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I'd say the same for you, except for the fact that you _betrayed_ me."

_My jeans were soaked through, my shoes filled with water. Jason slipped beside me and stepped into a large puddle. I laughed at his disgusted expression, but when he looked at me, he smiled. After shaking as much water out of his shoe as he could, he wrapped an arm around me and said, "C'mon, we should hurry and get out of the rain."_

"I was young, Jane. _You_ were young."

"And a _broken_ woman," I snapped. "Even the most _inexperienced_ criminal could tell, Jason. Anyone could have taken advantage of me, in more ways than one. And even _you_ said that I was the young one, that you were more experienced in relationship than I. You were the only one I trusted, and you screwed me over!"

_I let him lead since he seemed to know where he was going. We turned down an alley, and his hand tightened on my waist. I asked him if he was scared of a dark alley on a raining night, and he shook his head. "Just scared of what _could_ happen in the dark alley on a raining night."_

"Jane, I didn't want to do it to you, you have to believe me." I didn't reply as I leaned against the wall, wincing at the beginning of a headache. He was breathing loudly, I could hear him from across the room. "Despite what I did to you…what I did to _myself_…I still care about you, and…I love you."

_I skipped ahead, slipping out of his grasp, and I laughed out loud, arms outstretched to the rain as I twirled. My laughter echoed in the empty alley, but against the rain, it sounded like a ghastly howl. I turned to Jason, grinning like a little girl who just got the toy she wanted for Christmas._

_Jason had tossed the umbrella aside, abandoning it. A gun rested in his hand, in a firm grip, the barrel pointed at me. The smile died on my lips._

"_What's going on, Jason?" I asked, my voice quiet._

"_You know, Jane, I've had a _lot_ of fun with you, for these past few months," he said, "Honest. You and I, we were such a pair, working well and spending our free time together."_

"_Were?"_

"_You're young, Jane. You haven't experienced true love or a breakup. You were deprived of such trials because of the Mob, of your father. As your first boyfriend, I'd say it was _my_ duty to give you a taste of what love can be, a taste of a relationship, before I break you." He cocked the gun and lifted it slightly. "Thing is, I haven't felt this way about anyone else than I have felt about you, Jane. Breaking you will be my regret for life, but it's a regret I will endure, if you can't come _back_ to me."_

"_Jason, don't do this," I pleaded. "I don't know what I've done to deserve this, but-."_

"_That's the ticket, isn't it?" he interrupted. "You _don't_ deserve this, but _I_ deserve this because I've disobeyed orders, not to get close to you."_

_I wanted to run. Part of me wanted to go to him and hug him while another part wanted to run away from him. Yet another part wanted to take the gun away from him and either run or kill him before he could hurt me._

"_So, I promised to obey orders from now on, and my first one is to…_kill_ you." My hesitation gave him time to pull that trigger, the gunshot ricocheting off the empty alley walls, like my laughter had only a minute ago._

I took a sharp intake of breath, feeling the agony of the memory wash over me. "You shouldn't expect me to feel the same about you, Jason," I said quietly, wincing in pain. "I don't _just_ come back once you've broken my trust. I make you _pay_ for what you did to me to lose it."

"I understand," he replied. "It just hurts me to see you with someone like the Joker."

I glared in his direction, and he flinched, like he could feel my icy gaze. "I'm glad it hurts…because it's what you _deserve_," I said, cold-heartedly.

He was silent for a few moments. "I chose my job over you…and now, you're choosing your duty over me…or you're choosing your _boss_ over me." I stiffened. "Why did you join him, Jane?" he pressed. "Of all criminals you could choose from, you chose the Joker, a psychopathic, mass-murdering, schizophrenic clown who cares about _nobody_, much less himself."

"You don't know what he's like," I said, defensively.

"Oh, I certainly _do_," Jason argued. He moved his hands which were tied down the sides of the chair. "I happen to be _captured_ by the Joker, at the moment."

"Is he in the room?" I asked. "If anything, you're _my_ captive since I'm _in_ the room."

"No, you're my tormentor. Did the Joker – your _boss_ – send you in while he went to play with Batman?"

I growled, irritated. "That's not the best word to use."

"Does he play with _you_?"

"No!" I said quickly. "He won't do anything like that."

"Will he?" Jason asked, raising an eyebrow. "What is the Joker to you, Jane?"

"_Shadow!_" I snapped.

"You keep defending him. You can't be positive he won't ever decide to simply _use_ you and then throw you _away_."

"Like you did?" I shot back.

Jason huffed. "At least I _respected_ you."

I scoffed. "You don't know what 'respect' means, Jason. The Joker and I have a compromise with certain terms that we've forged and hammered into a permanent contract until one of us reveals a secret to the other."

"What's the secret _he's_ going to reveal?"

"That's none of your business," I snapped, but the effect was belittled by the sudden painful throbbing in my head. I rubbed my head, trying to ease the pain, closing my eyes in the process.

"You still get killer headaches?" Jason asked, his voice soft with concern.

"I've always had them," I growled. "But that's not something I want to talk about."

Jason shifted again, trying to get into a more comfortable position with much difficultly. "Do you think he's going to keep you around forever, Jane? The Joker's known to have killed his men when they did something wrong. What is he to you? A protector from the world? Just a boss or something more?"

I gave him a hard look, but because of the throbbing pain, I didn't respond.

Despite the light, he seemed to find and match my gaze. "You love him, don't you?"

My breath hitched in my throat. "No," I protested, but my voice was too quiet. Panic swelled inside me. Jason's simple question scared me to no end.

"He broke you, dragging you farther than I ever could," Jason continued. "What did the Joker do? Beat you until you gave in? Threatened to kill you? Took you against your will? What did he do to bring you down to his level?"

"Shut up," I pleaded, as my eyes became misty. I couldn't let this go on! It wasn't something I wanted to face. "Just _shut up_, Jason! It's not like that at all! The Joker's _just_ my boss! I work for him, that's all!"

"_Just_ your boss?" Jason shouted over me. "Don't deny it, Jane, you know you can't." My eyes watered, blurring my vision, as a thought crossed my mind. Could it be true? Had I emotions for the madman who was my boss? Had I lost my mind? "Face it, Jane," Jason said, breaking into my thoughts. "It's not hard to read you. You've fallen in love with _the Joker_!"

"Shut up!" I screamed, striding towards him. I slapped him across the face, causing his head to jerk to the side. I breathed heavily as I stood over him, watching as his cheek swelled, turning bright red.

"_Listen_," I said, shaking with hatred as tears welled up in my eyes, slightly blurring my vision. I pointed my finger in his face as I told him in a voice that trembled, struggling to contain my anger and hatred. "Maybe I _have_ fallen for the Joker, but the way I see it, he's a great deal _better_ than a double-crossing scumbag like _you_."

I spun on my heel and went to the door, my hand turning the doorknob. I stood in the doorway, turning back to glare at him despite his shocked expression. "And like I said before, _Hawk_-ins, you _deserve_ this." I slammed the door behind me.

My body trembled, my hands clenched, my teeth grinding. I felt a scream building in my chest, and I knew that if I didn't find a place to be alone, I was going to lose it right there in the hallway outside Jason's imprisonment. With a second of thought, I shadowed to the basement.

I punched the wall as hard as I could. The plastered wall concaved around my fist, and I extracted my hand, seeing the hole in the wall. I looked down and saw blood dripping from my knuckles. I simply clenched it. The throbbing pain in my hand was nothing compared to my emotional agony. I shrieked at the top of my lungs, letting it all out rather than let it bubble up inside. My scream choked off into a sob, and I threw myself at the wall, pounding on it violently before turning my back to it.

My emotional anguish overwhelmed me as I slid down the length of the wall. I tucked my legs up into my chest, and I hugged my knees tightly, letting the hot tears flow freely. My sobs continued for quite some time before they finally subsided into soft whimpers. I rested my head on my knees, closing my eyes against the throbbing in my head and in my hand.

My uneven breathing gradually evened out, but I remained where I was, the tears drying on my cheeks.

I heard a series of whines, and I looked up to see my three Rottweilers racing over to me. Scout and Prince nuzzled me, trying to get underneath my arms, while Buddy licked my tear-stained face with his rough tongue. The three of them whined, their big eyes sad as they watched me. I simply stared back as Scout squeezed her head underneath my arm so that it rested on her shoulders. She looked at me, letting out a low whine.

I hugged her tightly, wishing she could understand the pain I had. Prince and Buddy nosed my arms, face, and chest as I drew away from Scout. I took a slow intake of breath as I rubbed their heads, feeling their smooth fur in my fingers. I outstretched my legs, feeling the minor soreness from being curled up in one position for a long time.

"If only you understood…" I whispered. My Rottweilers' ears perked up at the sound of my voice. "If you could talk back to me…I'd tell you everything." Buddy pressed himself into my side and then lied down, pressing even closer. Prince did the same on my other side while Scout sat on her haunches between my legs where I could scratch her ears, her head, and her strong neck.

I scratched Scout's neck, feeling the fur move with my hands. "Being a dog must be so easy," I murmured. "No worries of dealing with ex-boyfriends, with clownish bosses…and _certainly_ no worries with a romantic life." I sighed, feeling the hurt inside my chest. "It all started with _him_," I whispered, painfully. "There's only been two who were worthy of my love…Jason and…" I struggled with his name, being unable to repeat it. I settled with "…my best friend…whom I'll never see again…"

Tears rimmed my eyes, but I didn't let them fall. I had already cried for the loss of my best friend, the one who could save me from anything, even from this _agony_.

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand and took a breath to steady myself. Then, I moved to get up. Scout, Prince, and Buddy got to their paws and moved out of the way so that I could climb to my feet. I held onto the wall as I stood up, wincing as I remembered my injured hand. I patted my Rottweilers' heads and then headed for the stairs. When the dogs started to follow me up, I turned and clicked my tongue, ordering them to go back. They whined in unison, but I snapped my fingers abruptly. They reluctantly obeyed me.

I shadowed to the closet where we kept all the first aid, and I took care of my hand, cleaning it with Peroxide. I had a sharp intake of breath through my clenched teeth as the Peroxide stung my hand, seeping into my cuts and causing it to bubble and bleed. I gently dabbed at it until I thought it was clean enough before I applied an antibiotic ointment. I bandaged my hand and then headed off to the bedroom I shared with the Joker, purposely avoiding the hallway where Jason was.

My watch told me it was close to midnight; I assumed that the Joker was either back or would be returning soon. I would have time to calm down more, to take a hot shower, and to climb into bed before he arrived. He didn't have to know what transferred between me and Jason; I wasn't going to tell him.

I opened the bedroom door, awaiting the hot shower that would help me relax, but I stopped abruptly, my heart leaping into my throat.

The Joker awaited me, sprawled out on the bed with his hands behind his head. He grinned at me, his eyes full of laughter, amused by the surprised expression on my face. "Didn't, ah, ex-_pect_ me back this early, did ya?" he asked, giggling softly.

I was so surprised that the only thing I could do – and _did_ do – was nod. As I remained standing in the doorway, I noticed that his signature jacket had been discarded, thrown carelessly onto the floor to the left of the door. I looked to it and then back at the Joker, confused.

The Joker's grin faded as quickly as it had come. He threw his legs off the bed violently, launching himself onto his feet where he threw his arms out as if to catch himself on something, even though there was nothing around him that he could grab hold. As I continued to stare at him, he lowered his arms and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"A simple 'hello' would ser-_vice_," the Joker said.

"Hi," I replied, slowly.

He narrowed his eyes as he turned his head slightly, giving me a sidelook. "Something _wrong_, _Sha_-dow?" he asked.

"No," I said, a bit too quickly.

The Joker sauntered toward me, and the thought of running crossed my mind. I didn't dare because the Joker would know for _sure_ that something was bothering me…but I had to lie _convincingly_, which was difficult when it came to lying to the Joker. That, and the Joker had pulled me away from the exit, closing the door and pressing me against it before I could run.

"You _know_ better than to, ah, to _lie_ to me, Shadow," the Joker said calmly. He placed his hands against the door on either side of my head, limiting my chances of escape. "And you know just how _much_ I dis-_like_ liars," he added.

"Sorry, Mister J," I said, "But I'm a little…edgy at the moment."

"Edgy?" he repeated. "Or merely un-_com_-fortable?"

I had noticed how close he was standing near me, but I didn't push it. He had been doing this for quite some time; I've grown used to it.

"But I suppose you _would_ be edgy after screaming your head off." My eyes widened slightly, and the Joker's mouth twitched into an easy grin. "Oh yeah, I've been _told_ about your little…_frustrated_ moment. Scared the wits out of my guys and your dogs. I happened to, ah, to _miss_ the scream as I was driving _in_ afterwards, but boy…" The Joker giggled. "Most of the guys were _pret_-ty frightened."

It was difficult to swallow with a dry mouth. The fact that the Joker knew I had screamed was scary enough. He knew _one_ detail; he would want to knowthe _whole story_.

Trying to look casual, I shrugged. "I didn't expect you to be back for awhile so I thought I'd take time to clear my head," I said. "Sometimes a woman's gotta let out her steam, and it's _always_ best for her to let it out while she's alone."

"But you _weren't_ alone," the Joker said, "And you _knew_ it." He leaned in closer until his face was only an inch from mine. "I didn't leave you alone with the _prisoner_, Shadow," he said. "Peter kept an eye on you for me."

I tried to look annoyed as I asked, "What did I do to lose your trust?"

"I seem to, ah, to _remember_ an emotional _breakdown_ while you were driving back from the fundraiser." I found myself stiffening, and I realized that the Joker was even closer than before; he could obviously feel my muscles tightening against his chest. "And just your re-_action_ to that _hand_-some lieu-_tenant_," the Joker continued. He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand as he said, "I couldn't allow you the _chance_ of, ah, of getting _distracted_, Shadow."

"Distracted?" I repeated.

"You're my right-hand woman. My sidekick. My partner-in-crime. My _Shadow_." The Joker licked his lips quickly and then cupped my chin roughly as his eyes met mine. "I didn't want to lose my Shadow because of some fine-looking young man like Lieutenant _Hawk_-ins."

I hardened my gaze against his, feeling myself grow colder. "I don't think it's something you should be _worried_ about, _partner_," I said, coldly. "Hawkins won't distract me from my work."

The Joker stiffened as his expression hardened.

"I know where my loyalties lie," I ensured the Joker before he tightened his grip on me. "I've let him distract me before, and I've learned from my mistake. It's not a mistake I intend to _repeat_."

The Joker relaxed as he gave me a curious expression. "Knew Hawkins in the past, did yah?"

I didn't reply, only ducking my head. It wasn't the best move, but it was the only thing I could do with the Joker trapping me against the wall.

"Do you…wanna talk?" I looked up, surprised by the sudden change in his tone. Concern replaced his curiosity, and I felt like that was a bad thing.

He was watching me intently, waiting for an answer.

"About what?" I asked, quietly.

"About the lieutenant, about _Jason_."

I closed my eyes tightly, resting my head back against the wall. He had finally connected the name I always repeated at night with the police lieutenant. It was more than a slight relief that he wasn't taking advantage of that unfortunate piece of information…_yet_.

Opening my eyes, I met his. His gaze seemed to pierce into me, like he was trying to break into my secrets. I couldn't match his gaze. My eyes fell, resting on his shift collar, the coward that I was.

"No…" I murmured. He shifted his weight as he reached up, lifting my chin. My eyes met his again.

"You sure?" he asked. His tone was soft, worried, but I wasn't falling for that.

I jerked my head out of his grasp. "I'm _sure_," I snapped.

I expected him to push, to get frustrated and hurt me. I didn't expect him to step back, turn, and walk away from me, halting in the middle of the room with his side to me. From what I could see, his expression seemed strange, like he wasn't the same person. It made me curious, but scared at the same time. What if this was just the calm before the storm?

We stood there in silence. If anything, I could hear my breathing and my steady heartbeat. My gaze lowered to the ground, cowardly, because I knew that if he glanced at me, I wouldn't be able to met his eyes. It was strange enough that the Joker was showing his concern, with no subtle hinting, but having him stand there, patiently, waiting me out…patience has never been a trait for him, and now, that he was showing it, it worried me that there might be something else he has hidden from me, and has kept from me. Something that could change my entire opinion of him.

Finally, I couldn't stand the silence anymore, and I looked up, irritated. "What _else_ do you want?" I demanded, sharply.

My tone seemed to snap him out of his line of thought, and he blinked, clearly startled. Then, when he saw my irritation, a grin appeared on his face. "I like it better when you're angry than de-_pressed_."

I arched an eyebrow. "Oh, _real_-ly? Didn't you know that it's more _dangerous_ to be around me when I'm angry?"

"Yeah," he said simply. "That's why I like it."

I glared at him and then lowered my gaze. That movement triggered something in him. In a flash, he stood before me, grabbing me and slamming me back against the wall. I winced against his rough hold on my upper arms.

"Hiding your emotions is not gonna make things _bet_-ter, Shadow," he growled. "I want to know what it is between you and the _lieu_-tenant!"

"You're not getting _anything_ out of me," I snapped.

He loomed into my face, his eyes hard on mine. "You wanna _bet_?" he demanded. "You _owe_ me."

"For _what_?"

"For _slapping_ me." His eyes narrowed. "I don't _like_…women hitting the scars. _It. Hurts_."

"See how much _this_ hurts." I kneed him hard, causing him to grunt and loosen his grip on my arms. I twisted out how his grasp and then threw a punch at him.

He recovered faster than what I would have expected. His hand shot up and caught my fist, and with his other hand, he grabbed my waist, turning me as he twisted my arm behind my back. To prove his control, he kicked my feet out from underneath me, causing me to fall facedown without bothering to slow my descent. I smacked my nose on the floor and flinched back, whimpering with pain as the Joker jerked my twisted arm higher.

"I've popped your shoulder _once_, Shadow," he said, his tone dark. "I'll do it _again_." I quietly whimpered against the pain. "Now, tell me how you know Jason!"

"We went out four years ago," I cried, deciding on a short summary that wouldn't go into detail. "He betrayed me and broke up with me in quite a _fashionable_ way that you would have liked. Last night was the second time I had seen him since we broke up, the first being in Arkham."

The Joker released my arm, and I dropped it to my side, holding it with my other hand. I rolled over onto my back, wincing when I moved my hurting arm. Beside me, the Joker crouched, his eyes darting about the ceiling before resting on mine, his eyes narrowing. "What's this, ah, _fashionable_ way?" he asked, curiously.

_I hit the ground, crying in agony, hand clenching my side. The bullet had barely missed my heart, I was sure of it. Blood spilled through my fingers, falling to the ground and mixing with the puddles of water around me, becoming a bloody river._

_Jason had fled, leaving me alone with the pain for company. The agony was too great, I was sure I was going to die from the blood loss or the pain itself. I was barely conscious when the ambulance arrived…_

"He shot me and left me to die," I said, clenching my teeth against the fading pain in my arm.

The Joker's expression remained stoical, but I could see fury flash in his brown eyes. "Quite a mis-_take_ with him," he said, his voice low and cold. I didn't understand the anger in his movements as he grabbed my bandaged hand, ignoring my whimper as he hit my hurt arm, and lifted it to inspect it. "So you _did_ go see him," he said. It wasn't a question; it was an accusation.

"Just to learn his motives," I found myself saying quietly. The Joker's eyes darted to meet mine, and the smoldering rage sparked fear in me. I cringed from the Joker as he breathed sharply through his nose, making his nostrils flare.

The Joker's grip on my bandaged hand tightened alarmingly, and I cried out in pain, which only seemed to enrage him even more. He dropped my hand and straightened, heading for the bedroom door, his hand reaching for the doorknob.

I feared what he was going to do. I thrust my shadow out to block him as I scrambled to my feet, lunging myself at him from behind. He hit the door and then shoved himself off it, nearly knocking me to the ground. Furious, the Joker turned on me, grabbing my injured hand and yanking me toward the bed.

He threw me onto it, and I whimpered as he continued to hold onto my injured hand. He loomed over the side of the bed, hovering over me. I could feel the wrath radiating off his lean frame, and it scared me.

The Joker released my hand and went toward the door again. With my cry of pain from my hand, I had called back my shadow, allowing the Joker to open the door. Despite how scared I was of him, I climbed off the bed and raced out into the hallway after the Joker, catching his arm and pulling back.

"No," I cried, "I can't let you hurt him!"

The Joker ignored me, only jerking his arm out of my hold, but I grabbed him again.

"What do you have _against_ him?" I asked.

"I can't allow him to get away with hurting my partner," the Joker responded, trying to free himself from my grip.

"Just because he hurt me in the past doesn't mean that _you_ can take it out on him!" I protested. "Please, stop! He doesn't _deserve_ what you'll do to him! What's done is done! Don't _do_ this to me, Joker, _please_!"

The Joker halted, and I dropped to my knees, still clasping tightly to his arm. I tugged lightly as I pressed my forehead against his gloved hand, tears escaping. I cried softly, struggling to control myself, sniffing as I subconsciously rubbed my forehead against the Joker's hand. He remained perfectly still while I cried.

I lost track of time as I cried into the Joker's hand, wetting his leather glove. He didn't move, didn't pull his hand away. Gradually, my sobs subsided, and the tears dried on my cheek. I still struggled to keep from choking as I rubbed my face in his hand.

That's when the Joker took it away. He pulled away slowly, and I released him reluctantly. I slumped to the ground, still on my knees, my hands falling onto my upper thighs. I hung my head, trying to regain control over my emotions. I watched the Joker's shoes as he turned to face me, and cold fear overwhelmed me, my eyes fixed on his feet.

My heart pounded, and blood throbbed in my ears. My breathing accelerated as I watched in fear of what he might do to me for protecting Jason. I didn't want him to hurt me, but if he wanted to, nothing was going to stop him. I was too afraid to shadow away because I knew he'd track me down and he'd hurt me more.

The Joker stood there for many _agonizing_ seconds, and then turned away, heading down the hallway.

I lifted my head slowly, seeing how his jacket flapped in the air around him as he moved away from me. His footsteps were heavy, and his shoulders were drooping, like he was carrying a grave burden. He didn't say a word as he walked away, disappearing around the corner. I strained intensively and heard him descend the metal stairs to the hangar.


	32. Without A Care

Many minutes passed without my knowledge. Struggling against my emotions, I pushed myself to my feet slowly, feeling weak and shaky. I went where my feet carried me, so numb that it didn't matter to me.

I came out into the main hangar of the warehouse, headed for one of the parked cars, vaguely noting that the Volvo was gone. My hand caressed the red truck that the Joker had stolen from the guy he killed for insulting me, and I climbed in, leaving the door open as I ran my hands around the steering wheel.

"You okay, Shadow?"

I sighed and dropped my hands to the bottom of the wheel. "No, Dean, I'm not." I looked over at him, standing in the open door. "Why is it that whenever the Joker and I have a hard time, _you're_ the first one who finds me?"

Dean shrugged. "Just coincidence, I guess." He watched me for a few seconds before asking, "Have you been crying?"

Consciously, I rubbed the palm of my hand over my eyes and down my cheeks, hoping to make the traces disappear. Dean grabbed my wrist, stopping me. "It was worse this time," he said. "You've never cried after a hard time with him. Did the Joker hurt you? He hit you, didn't he?"

"He hasn't hit me since my first few days here," I told him reluctantly.

"What did he _do_ to you?" Dean demanded, his expression hardening.

"Why do you care, Dean?" I asked.

"I _care_ because I'm your _friend_."

"You wouldn't understand."

"I understand enough to know that this isn't who you really are," he said.

"Then who _am_ I?" I snapped, losing my temper suddenly. "You've only known for about a month. Who do you think I am?"

"Sara," Dean sighed, surprising me as he said my real name, "You helped me with my memories. I know a little about you, that you were a quiet bookworm in the past. I may not know what happened to you since then, but I know that no one's changed you as much as the Joker. I care that you're changing into a monster, like _him_. I don't want you to lose sight of who you really are."

His grip on my wrist relaxed, and he sighed again. "Listen to me, Sara. Maybe being here, around the Joker, isn't a good idea."

"Never said it _was_," I murmured.

"It's because you came to Gotham that you were kidnapped by the Joker in the first place."

"What's your point?"

Dean hesitated, like he was unsure that now was the time. "You should leave…now while he's not here."

"Why?" I asked, frowning. "I consider Gotham my home now."

"If you stay here longer, you'll end up in Blackgate Prison, or even worse, Arkham Asylum with the Joker." He shifted his grip from my wrist to my hand, and my gaze dropped, seeing how small my hand was compared to his. "As your friend, Sara, I'm _telling_ you to leave, for your own good."

I chewed on my lower lip, not knowing what to say or to think. I couldn't consider leaving the Joker…not while he had Jason, not while he had _me_. "I can't, Dean," I whispered. "I've been alone too long…"

"You don't _have_ to go alone, Shadow." I raised my gaze, meeting his brown eyes, flinching slightly when I realized that they were almost the same shade as the Joker's. "I'll go with you. I'll take you away from here."

"The Joker would know, Dean. It wouldn't work. He'd come after me, after you."

"No, he won't. You'll be leaving him willingly. He doesn't really need me; he just keeps me around because I amuse him."

I ducked my head to hide my small smile. Dean cupped my chin with his hand, tilting my head back up. He licked his lips and said, "He doesn't need me so he won't miss me. He'll let you go. If you come with me, I _promise_ to protect you, to stay with you so that you'll never be alone again."

Gazing into his eyes, I realized he was being serious about this. There wasn't the slightest hint that he was playing around with me. He really believed that it would save me if I left Gotham City behind, and he was willing to come with me, despite what might happen.

"Why would you do this, Dean?" I asked. "We've only known one another for a short time, even if we knew each other in middle school. This is the _Joker_, we're talking about. Why would you risk your _life_ for me?"

Dean paused, shifting his weight. Then, he said, "Because I love you, Sara." I blinked with surprise, but he didn't seem to notice as he leaned in, pressing his lips to mine.

I didn't resist him; I didn't know how to react. I was so numb; I wasn't even surprised by his feelings for me. I didn't think he'd have the courage to try something like this, but it didn't seem to matter anymore, to him.

Even though I hadn't reacted, he snaked his arms around my waist, pulling me out of the truck and into his embrace. My mind raced as he continued to kiss me; I could taste his passion, could almost _measure_ how much he loved me.

Dean pulled away for air and came back, but he stopped when his mouth met my hand instead. He looked at me, injured but patient for an explanation.

"I'm sorry, Dean," I said quietly, closing my eyes. "I don't mean to hurt you, but I can't." My heart throbbed painfully in my chest as I realized those were the same words I had said to the Joker when he first kissed me. "I just don't have the same feelings as you do…there's someone else…"

"Is it the Joker?" Dean asked, sharply. "Is that why he can hurt you so much?"

I shook my head, even though that wasn't the answer to the question. "No, it's the man he's taken prisoner, my ex-boyfriend." I pulled away from him and walked away, heading out of the warehouse altogether. I didn't hear him pursue me, but I kept walking anyway.

Once I was a good distance from the warehouse, I had finally made a decision, and I shadowed away.

Normally, I would have avoided a place like the nightclub My Alibi. It had poor-quality compared to some higher nightclubs I've been, Iceberg Lounge being the only one in Gotham I've found, but My Alibi fit perfectly with my mood as I entered.

The noise level had been considerably loud from the far end of the parking lot, but as I walked in through the open side doors, the music pounded against the walls. I could even feel the vibration in the floor. The crowd was boisterous; everyone determined to party, to gear up for the coming weekend. As I made my way to the bar, I heard the shattering of glass, followed by maniacal laughter and several protests. A woman holding a beer bottle laughed loudly as she allowed a fellow to lead her to the dance floor where they disappeared in the wave of bobbing dancers.

I slid onto an empty barstool and called the bartender, ordering a beer. Honestly, I wasn't a drinker and never really enjoyed the stuff, thus never getting addicted to it, but as emotional _unstable_ I felt, I thought I'd turn to the liquor to give me the strength to get through my predicament.

The first gulp was bad, with the burning down my throat, and the second was just as terrible. It wasn't until around the fifth or sixth gulp that my throat almost went numb to it.

I drank and listened to the music, watching the dancers bob to the background noise. I caught sight of a poker game and was tempted to go over there, but instead, I finished off my bottle and asked for another.

Whenever a temptation came up, I ordered another drink. I don't know how many I had; I gave up counting after the fourth one. My vision seemed just as clear as ever, and my other senses seemed normal. The only thing different was the hum that I felt vibrating through my limbs, giving me a _giddy_ feeling. It didn't matter; I felt numb to my troubled emotions but didn't feel brave enough to go up and dance.

"How many shots are customers allowed?" I asked the bartender.

"Two usually, unless we know you can take it," he replied. He was a man in his mid-thirties with premature hair and nice eyes. "I don't recognize you. Your first time?"

I shook my head, the liquor making it easier to lie.

"Well, I'd suggest one for now, but if you can handle it, you can have three max."

I nodded. "I'll take one, for now."

I took the maximum three. I felt as though I was having an out-of-body experience, feeling like I didn't have much control over my limbs. My vision blurred after the first shot, my logic died on the second, and now my control was gone. I stood up, holding onto the bar for support, managing small conscious thoughts that seemed clear with enough common sense.

I don't hold onto the bar, I'll fall and might hurt myself. Common sense…

The crowd had become livelier since I had first come in; people in a feverish state of drunkenness and partying. I moved into the wave of people, bumping off several of them as I tried to make my way to the dance floor. It wasn't a conscious idea of trying to reach there, but I did realize where I was going more than halfway there so I went with it.

I reached the dance floor, listened to the song for a few moments, and then gradually began to move with the beat.

Several songs in, I got the hang of it.

The music vibrated through my body as I danced, swinging my hips like there was no one else on the dance floor. I lost all concentration, just letting myself move to the beat, stamping my feet, clapping my hands, throwing my arms up into the air, popping my hips…I danced like it was the end, letting myself go and without a care.

I felt sweat drip on my body, and the heat in the room was intense. I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and lifted it up, pulling it over my head. I threw it aside and could hear whistles around me, but I didn't care, nor did I pay any attention, merely flashing a grin. I continued to dance, throwing myself around and not caring if I hit others.

A few guys came up, trying to get my beat, but I was too much for them, moving to a hidden beat in the song. They couldn't keep up with me. I laughed at them as they wandered off like puppies with their tails between their legs. I felt free, I felt happy, and I felt like I could do anything.

I don't know how long I had been there. In my drunken state, time didn't matter. I faced off several guys and girls, showing off moves that I'd regret later but at the moment didn't care. Bumping and grinding, I let myself loose, dancing with everyone and no one. I was too intense for them all.

I was only dimly aware of the hands that rested on my hips, just below my belt. Grinning, eager for the challenge, I placed my hands over the fellow's, swinging my hips. He moved with me, keeping pace with me. Even drunk, I was impressed that he could handle me. He spun me out and back into his arms, taking the lead away from me.

I laughed, enjoying the release of the control, letting him freely take the lead from me. We danced rigorously, moving in unison. It was a workout, and I found myself breathing heavily with the effort. _Finally_, someone who could outmatch me! How _fun!_

The song ended, and I felt myself being pulled away from the dance floor. Trying to catch my breath, I relaxed against the fellow, smiling widely and turning my head to see the guy's face. Through drunken eyes, all I could see was a blurry mass of white, black, and red.

Someone else popped up and demanded to know where the guy was taking me.

"She just needs some fresh _air_," the guy replied, his voice low, husky.

I reached out an arm, drunkenly. "Don't worry," I said loudly. "I'll be back." I raised my arm, bringing it around the guy's neck behind me. "Won't I?" I asked, giggling softly to myself.

"No, you _won't_," he responded as he put an arm around my waist to support me. He led me through the crowd of people, and I stumbled along with him, having no care in the world of _where_ he was taking me.

We left the pumping music behind, and the guy pushed open the back door of the nightclub, bringing me out into the cool breeze. I felt my dripping sweat dry almost instantly, and I laughed, turning around and hugging the guy's neck.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed. "Some party, huh?"

"Sure it was, Shadow," he responded, not amused.

I gave him a curious look. "Have we met?" I asked, confused. Then, before he could answer, I giggled. "Oh, what does it matter, huh? A handsome guy like you…gonna take me far away, right? I like rides."

"You're a _wreck_, Shadow." He sounded concerned, disappointed, _disgusted_.

"What are you _talking_ about?" I asked, still giggling. I threw an arm up into the air as I exclaimed, "I feel _wonder_-ful! I feel _great_! So alive and _ready_!" I grabbed a handful of his purple jacket as I brought my face close to his. "You know what?" I asked. "Guess what I'm ready for!"

"That's _not_ what you're going to _get_, Shadow," he growled, sounding angry.

"Why _not_, Mistah J?" I whined, hanging on his neck, his name popping into my head. "Surely you've wanted it too, huh?" I laughed and kissed his cheek – or tried to since I missed and got his jaw instead.

"Shadow," he said, quietly as I kissed his jaw several times. "You're drunk…"

"Am I?" I asked, startled. Then, I released a high-pitched giggle. "Maybe I am…I don't know."

The Joker glared at me, his eyes hardening. "How many drinks did you _have_?" he demanded.

"Just a few," I replied.

The Joker pushed me roughly against the brick wall of the alley, and I laughed with the pain. I nearly collapsed, but he kept an arm around me, to support me. I smiled drunkenly as he leaned in closer, his breath blowing in my face.

"How. Many?" he growled through clenched teeth.

I tried to remember, but only shrugged as I lifted my hands to his vest, playing with the buttons. "Didn't count, I can't remember." I looked up at him and grinned. "C'mon, enough of the…um, chitchat, Joker. We should go find some place…to be alone."

His white-faced expression tightened as his tongue flickered out over his bottom lip. "I don't _dig_ drunk women," he said stiffly.

"Oh, but I _dig_ men who wear _purple_," I said, pressing into him roughly, making him take a step back for balance. "Some people think that if a guy wears purple, it means he's gay…" I grinned widely at him as I fumbled with a button on his green vest. "I think only a _true_ man would wear purple…or even a man who wants…_chaos_-ah!" I laughed as I gave up on the frustrating button and wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my lips to his face.

I began kissing him along his jaw, moving up by his ear and then down his neck. My hands buried themselves into his green-tinted hair, but didn't remain there as I was restless. Drunk, I just _wanted_ him. My hands moved down his neck and under his jacket, searching for the feel of his hunched shoulders.

The Joker made no move to assist me, or to _stop_ me. I wasn't hurt by his lack of participation because I was simply too busy enjoying the feel of his muscular body. When I kissed his scars ever so gently, I felt his mouth twitch like he was trying to resist me, and I would smile and kiss his other scar lightly, brushing his lips with mine as I moved to his other side.

I moved my hands down to his vest again, trying to undo the buttons, but I gave up when I couldn't do it, my fingers too clumsy. I busied myself with caressing his chest, his sides…as I pressed my lips to his, my hands reached for his belt, beginning to unbuckle it.

The Joker tore away abruptly, and I found the world spinning around me before all I saw was the night sky that was filled with bright stars. "So pretty," I murmured as an amused grin stretched over my mouth. I heard the Joker swear quietly nearby, and I turned my head to see him fixing his belt. "Such _language_," I giggled, happily.

"Get up, Shadow," the Joker snarled, clearly angry now.

Even in my drunken state, I had the sense not to question him. I tried to get up, but I simply couldn't, being too unsteady. "Mistah J, I…_can't_," I told him, being overcome by giggles.

The Joker growled as he approached me, slipping his arms underneath me and picking me up effortlessly. I laughed and clapped my hands, giggling excitedly as I wrapped my arms around his neck affectionately. He carried me out of the alley and toward a silver car where he shifted me in his arms and opened the passenger door.

"Don't hit me head," I told him in a deep, gruff voice between giggles. He placed me in the front seat and buckled me in place before closing the door. I waited until he had gotten in and started the car before I grinned and threw my legs onto his lap. "Where we _headed_, Mistah J?"

The Joker's face had tightened as he shoved my legs off him. "Home," he said.

"Why not some _other_ place?" I whined as I put my legs on him again, stretching out sideways in my seat. "We go back to the _same place_."

The Joker made no move to shove away my legs, instead focusing on pulling away from the nightclub, and I grinned, feeling victorious. However, the Joker stopped the car at the end of the street and climbed out of the car. I blinked, confused as he came to my side, opening the door and holding out his hand to assist me.

I giggled as I took his hand, stepping out of the car and stumbling into him. "Well, we going into that building there?" I asked, eagerly. "We gonna get it _on_?"

The Glasgow smile appeared on his face as he wrapped an arm around my waist to steady me. "No, something _bet_-ter than that," he told me, lifting his free hand. I blinked when I saw a small device, something that looked familiar, once my vision had focused enough.

"Is that…a detonator?" I asked, curiously.

"You _bet_ it is." He waved it before my face, and I reached my hands out, trying to catch it like a cat. "Wanna know what it _does_?"

"Ooo, I wanna know!" I exclaimed, clapping my hands excitedly.

"See this button." He motioned to it with his thumb.

I nodded, eagerly reaching for it again. "Can I push it?" I cried.

The Joker jerked it out of my reach, and I pouted. "Ah, _no_, I don't want you _messing it up_."

"I _won't_," I whined. "Oh _please_, let me push it!" He wasn't moved so I begged for it. "C'mon, I don't _ask_ for much! I wanna push it! I wanna push it! Oh, _please_, give it to me! I promise I won't mess it up. Let me _have_ it!"

The Joker's face lit with an amused smirk as I begged for the detonator. Seeing that I wasn't winning him over, I fell silent and widened my eyes in a poor impression of an innocent puppy. "You can be _convincing_ when you do that," the Joker said, "_But_-ah…the answer's still 'no'."

I pouted, and then I came up with an idea. "What if I hold it and _you_ push it? Could we do _that_? Please?"

The Joker turned his head, giving me a sidelook, like he was suspicious, and I continued to give him my puppy-impression. The corner of his scarred mouth twitched, and then he laughed. "Oh, all _right_. You can _hold_ it."

"YAY!" I exclaimed, loudly. The Joker started to hand it to me, but when I reached for it, he took it back, giving me a look. I whimpered, but held out my hands, patiently, until he placed the detonator on them. I let out a giggle of excitement as I gripped it tightly. "Push it! Push it! I wanna _see_ what it _does_!"

The Joker burst out laughing as he stepped behind me, bringing his face next to mine. I giggled as he wrapped both arms around my waist, and I felt a shiver of pleasure ran through me as his hot breath washed over my bare neck and shoulder. Feeling his warm body pressed against my back, I felt giddy inside, never mind being drunk. I felt _high_.

"Well?" I asked impatiently, "Ya gonna _push_ it or _what_?"

He hummed near my ear. "I've, ah, _changed_ my mind. You can _push_ it, if you want."

"_Really_?" I asked, in disbelief. "Ya _mean_ it, Mistah J?" He laughed and told me 'yes'. I let out an excited laugh and placed my thumb over the button. My body shuddered with my giddiness as I became overcome with nervous giggles. I turned my head towards the Joker's, having drunken second thoughts, but I felt his lips touch my turning cheek.

"Go ah-head and _push_ it, my _Sha_-dow," the Joker whispered.

The way he said my name sent a tingling sensation through me. I sucked in a deep breath, gave a suddenly dry laugh, and held up the detonator.

"And _I've_ changed _my_ mind," I told him, feeling a bit like my usual self.

The Joker sighed in disappointment, unwrapping his arms around me, one hand reaching for the detonator.

Abruptly, I jerked it out of his reach and depressed the button with my thumb.

At first, nothing happened. But then, I saw a flash of light, and a loud blow echoed down the street. I blinked, looking up and seeing the nightclub go up in an explosion, flames bursting in the air. Pieces of the place fell all around. The smoke seemed to vanish seconds after it appeared into the dark night sky. I watched the explosion and felt a grin appear on my face.

"Bew-tea-ful," I whispered. As the last of the smoke rose, it began to rain. My eyes were transfixed on the fireworks, even as the Joker pulled me back towards the car, shoving me into the passenger seat, clearly impatient with me wanting to watch the rest. I twisted my entire body to watch the rest, but as the Joker drove away, I was sad to see the fireworks end abruptly.

Unhappily, I slumped into my seat and refused to look at him, resting my head to the side, listening to the rain that rapidly struck the roof of the car, and closed my eyes.

When I opened them, I discovered the car was stopped. I sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, hearing the rain dropping on the roof. Looking over at the driver's seat, the Joker was gone. I caught sight of blurry purple outside, and I looked out the windshield to see the Joker standing in the rain, his head tilted up toward the sky.

I had the sense that I had seen this before, but I couldn't remember. The rain had lessened to small, slow droplets. Shivering at the sight, I realized that I wasn't wearing my shirt. I twisted and found my old jacket sitting in the backseat. Pulling it on and zipping it up, I opened my door and stepped out, shutting the car door and propping my side against it.

The Joker didn't seem to notice me. He still stood there, letting his paint smudge in the rain. I knew from looking at the paint tubes that it was water resistant, but it still smudged.

I watched his lean frame as he stood there. It was too strange to think that the Joker could possibly stand _still_, and he never seemed like a guy who would be out in the rain unless he had a reason. I couldn't use the usual excuse of him doing the unexpected.

The scene I was looking at, with the rain, the Joker, the empty parking lot…it seemed so _familiar_. I couldn't place it where I had seen it. I looked back at the Joker and started when I saw he was watching me intently.

"Sorry," I said automatically.

"Why are _you_ apologizing?" he asked. "You didn't _do_ anything."

I didn't know what to say to that. I usually had something, but this once, nothing came to my mind. Instead, I moved around to the front of the car and leaned back.

"Shadow," the Joker began, uneasily. "Can I tell you a story?"

I pulled myself up onto the hood, not caring if I got my pants wet. "You _can_," I stated.

A small smile crept on his face. He turned and sauntered toward me slowly, keeping his approach devoid of threat. The Joker halted with a small distance between us, and he turned his head slightly. "_May_ I?" he asked.

I placed my hands on the hood and leaned backwards, crossing my legs.

"I knew this kid once," the Joker began, looking off into the distance, his eyes watching the city lights against the rain. "In his early twenties, maybe. Found him in an alleyway, _dying_. Must've gotten into a _nasty_ gang fight. Fine-looking fellow, besides the _blood_ on him." The Joker licked his lips, still looking off in the distance, but I noticed he had become rather still.

"He told me that he was dying, that his only hope of living was _lost_-ah to him. I asked him what that _hope_ was." The Joker looked at me, his eyes distant, unfocused. I waited for him to speak, but he didn't, falling into silence. His emotions swirled rapidly in his eyes, and he looked away sharply, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly as he ducked his head. This confused me. This wasn't like the Joker, to hesitate, to _apologize_.

It could be a joke, but I felt like the Joker was – and I worried greatly for using the word – _vulnerable_.

Abruptly, the Joker yanked off his gloves, tossing them onto the hood of the car beside me. He bounded forward, and before I could react, he held my face tightly, his skin pressed against mine. In a panic, I looked into his eyes and felt myself being swallowed by those tormented brown orbs, activating my shadow ability.

_Everything was disorientated. Colors were a blur, lacking in shape and dimension. It was dizzying as a flood of emotions hit me, nearly overcoming me, _drowning_ me under the intense pressure of hidden and suppressed feelings. I tried to find myself among those emotions, and succeeded, locating my own curiosity and confusion._

_I composed myself and found that the color blur around me had finally formed. I was standing on a dark road that had only one dim streetlight that flickered. Looking up at the sky, it was cloudy, dark enough to be nighttime._

_I heard footsteps, rapid footsteps. I turned, knowing they were coming from behind me, and there was a man running towards me. Quickly, I jumped out of the way, unsure of what else to do, but he didn't give me any notice as he ran past, like the cops were on his heels._

_I would have forgotten him, if I hadn't noticed the blood running down his front._

_Without another second, I chased after him, catching sight of him ducking into an alley. I stopped just inside the mouth, seeing it was very dark. The light that filtered in through the mouth wasn't enough to see more than just the man's outline. I tried my shadow vision, but I realized that this was a memory. I couldn't use special powers in a memory._

_The stranger ran to the wall, placed his hands on the brick wall, and stood there, breathing heavily. I approached slowly, trying to be quiet. Even if I couldn't see it, I could _smell_ the blood on him, and by the intensity of the smell, I knew that it was a _lot_; and it wasn't all his._

_The man pushed off the wall and started walking, only to stumble and place a hand along the bricks to stable himself. It was like he was drunk, but I knew it was the loss of blood. The man didn't get far before he collapsed, knocking into a garbage can and several boxes that he toppled over._

_His body convulsed on the ground for a few seconds before he lay still. I worried that he was dead, but as I crouched beside him, I could hear his uneven breathing. Slowly, he raised a hand to his head, resting it on his cheek before reaching his forehead. "Help me," he wheezed through trembling lips. "Somebody, help…"_

_I wanted to comfort him, to help him, but even as I reached towards him, I found my hand – as ghostly as it looked – went right through him. This didn't make sense. In the Joker's last memory, I had been _him_, but now, it was like he wasn't real, or _I_ wasn't. Was I seeing this from a third-person view?_

_Then, I heard more footsteps, easy and calm ones. I turned my head. A dark figure appeared at the other end of the alley, standing there with his back against the light. From the dim light, I could make out the tangled hair and the form of a long jacket. As I watched the newcomer shift from one foot to the other, I _knew_ who it was._

"_Help me," the bleeding man beside me gasped. "Please, I _beg_ you, good sir."_

"_Sir?" the dark figure repeated, drawing it out dramatically. "Begging in a city like this, ah, won't get you _anything_ but get you robbed."_

"_Please," the man begged. "I'm not going to last long, I know it."_

"_Then why should I help you?" The figure turned his head slightly. "If you're dying anyway…"_

_The man struggled to reach into his torn jacket, pulling out his wallet with an effort. He panted as he tossed it as far as he could in the figure's direction. "Then go," he said, in a defeated voice. "I'm dying so take my wallet. At least someone _else_ will profit from my death…" He rested his head on the ground. "My last hope is gone anyway."_

_My throat constricted as I watched the dying man, wishing deeply that I could help him. I cared about him, whoever he was. If only I was real, I'd save him, protect him from the figure…_

_I looked up to see the figure slowly approaching, slowing to crouch and pick up the man's tossed wallet before continuing toward him. Even though I didn't need to, I moved away from the approaching figure, giving him room to crouch down beside the dying man. The figure was so close, I could see little of his features, but in the dim light from the street, I could just barely make out a red liquid running down from the figure's right cheek._

_The figure carelessly opened the man's wallet and pulled out his ID card. "This isn't real," he stated flatly, flapping it. "Why would a man like you be holding a fake ID? Joseph White? Who do you _think_ you are?" He shook his head disappointedly as he slipped the card back into the wallet. "What's this _hope_ of yours?"_

_The man panted heavily, trying to keep coherent enough to understand and speak to the figure. "My…my best friend…" he gasped, "The picture behind…the ID…" The figure reached past the ID and pulled out a small picture, looking at it. I had the sense that he was frowning through the red blood running down his cheek._

"_A girl?" he asked. "Your _daughter_?"_

"_No…picture was taken…less than nine…years ago. She's my…girlfriend."_

"_Girlfriend?" The figure chuckled, his laughter carefree. "She got a name?"_

"_Reynolds…Sara Reynolds…"_

_I gasped._

_The figure cleared his throat as he looked over at the picture again. "Ya know, kid. You and I can _go_ places," he said. "You can make a new beginning. A new _form_ of who you really are. There's a way that you and your _girl_-friend can get back together again."_

"_There's no…way…she's gone."_

"_But I'm the type of fellow that can _find_ people." The figure laughed and leaned in close to the man's face. "Joseph White…or should I call you by your real name?"_

"_You don't know it…"_

"_Oh, but I _do_, and there's only _one_ way that can be possible to you…"_

The memory instantly faded around me, and I felt overcome with exhaustion. My body felt like lead and all I knew of was the falling sensation that failed to end as a pair of strong arms caught me before I lost consciousness.


	33. Comsummate

I awoke feeling tired with a pounding headache, one that was twice as bad as the usual. I felt a soft blanket underneath me so I had to be lying down, but even like that, it seemed like the world was rotating around me, making me feel nauseous. When I opened my eyes, I cried out and immediately shut them, slapping my arm over them to block out as much light as possible.

Nearby, I heard a soft chuckle, and I groaned. Of all people I wanted to deal with while I was hung-over…

"How yah _feelin_', _Sha_-dow?"

"Sick," I replied.

"No surprise with how much you _drank_ last night." The Joker giggled, and I turned my head away from him, wishing he would go away. "C'mon, sit up. I've got aspirin."

Reluctantly, I pushed myself up, still keeping my eyes closed. The Joker placed two aspirin in my hand, and I popped them in, nearly choking. I opened my eyes again, enough to see that the Joker was also holding out a glass of water for me to drink. As I took it from him, he placed a hand on my forehead and said, "At least your fever's gone. _How_, I wouldn't know." I guzzled my water, washing down the pills.

"What happened last night?" I asked as I held out the empty glass.

"You don't remember?" he asked, smirking.

I looked at him, seeing his amusement, and then sharply said, "_No_! Please don't tell me we had-!"

"Oh, no-no-no-no-_no_!" the Joker cut me off before I could finish, waving his hands violently. "I _really_ don't _dig_ drunk women." He shifted uneasily in his chair and then said, "But _you_ were headed in that direction."

"I _was_? Oh great…" I placed my face in my hands. I doubted the Joker was going to let me live this one down. I've never been drunk before, never dealt with a hangover the next day, never been _close_ to a man while drunk. Oh, why did it _have_ to be the _Joker_, of all people to be drunk around and have that involuntary _want_…

"So…what _did_ happen last night?" I asked, wearily.

He shrugged carelessly. "What does it matter?"

"It matters to _me_," I snapped, rolling over to the edge of the bed. "I've _never_ done something as stupid as what I did last night, whatever happened."

"You drank, if that helps."

"I _know_ I drank, and boy, don't I regret it…" I moaned, clasping my head with a hand. "Fine, keep your secrets to yourself, Joker. I'm going to take a shower." I stood up and nearly fell over, but managed to grab hold of the nightstand on my side. "I got this," I murmured to myself as I bend down to reach my duffel bag underneath the bed. Without looking at him, I slid my hand along the wall as I went about the room toward the bathroom.

When I came out with my damp hair hanging free, dressed in everyday clothing – rather than my outfit – I was surprised that the Joker appeared to be waiting for me. He sat on the end of our shared bed, head bowed and hands clasped together, fingers entwined. I stood in the doorway, unsure of whether or not he was in deep thought or if he was sleeping, he was so still.

Then, the Joker lifted his head, and I saw that his eyes looked slightly bloodshot. "I found you at My Alibi, the nightclub that no longer exists," he said slowly.

I blinked as an image of the explosion flashed in my mind. "I remember," I said. "I pushed the button…" Guilt gradually crept inside me, slowly spreading, and I had to lean against the doorframe for support. "I wasn't _thinking_ straight…"

The Joker stood up and sauntered toward me. I couldn't meet his eyes, but he cupped my chin and forced me to look up. His tongue traced over his lips before he said, "You make a _great_ partner, Shadow. I couldn't have found anyone _better_. Even if you _are_ determined to be stubborn about your true nature."

"I'm not like you," I said, jerking my head out of his grasp. "I don't _want_ to be. I've been forced into the life of a criminal; I had the choice later, but by then, I wouldn't have been able to handle being kept in an orphanage or a private school. I had lost the sense of who I was. There was no turning back, after all that had happened."

"You didn't let me finish," the Joker stated, and I closed my mouth, watching him cautiously. He shifted as he rested a hand higher up on the doorframe, over my head. He looked up at his hand as his tongue traced his lower lip. I waited for him to snap, to say something, _anything_, but he remained silent, focused on his hand.

"You think…" I began, trying to prompt him, "That I'm a good partner."

"I said _great_ partner," he corrected me, his eyes instantly darting to mine. He cleared his throat as he shifted his weight again, holding eye contact. "We've been working together for _how_ long? Over a month? Seems too short of a time, but I feel like we've known one another for a great deal _longer_."

There was a mysterious gleam in his eyes that I didn't understand. We weren't standing as close as we usually stood to one another, but I could hear my uneven breathing. My eyes dropped lower than his, and I noticed how his chest was heaving. Vaguely, I realized that mine was too.

"Why…why did you go to talk to Jason?" he asked, his voice quiet, unsure, cautious.

I couldn't meet his eyes. I tried to walk past him, and he let me. I wanted to leave, but he grabbed my arm when he realized I was headed for the door. In a flash, he threw me onto the bed, where I landed quietly on my back, trying to scramble away from him. He stood at the edge of the bed, his eyes narrowed slightly with confused fury.

"I _told_ you," I said, my voice on the verge of cracking in fear. "I wanted to know why-."

"He's been here _longer_ than you have, Shadow," the Joker growled, dangerously. "How do _I_ know that you aren't in _league_ with him? Your ex-boyfriend? Don't make me laugh." He crawled onto the bed, his eyes sharply intent on me.

"How can I have _known_?" I asked, moving away from him slowly compared to how he was approaching me. "I _swear_, I didn't know he was here in Gotham City. Otherwise, I would have gone somewhere _else_. He was the _last_ man I was expecting to find here."

The Joker jumped forward, knocking me flat on my back, and he hovered over me, on his hands and knees. His eyes burned into mine until I managed to tear mine away. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look back at him.

His tongue traced his scarred mouth, his eyes focused on mine. I could only wait for him to decide what to do with me. My fear of him wouldn't let me move, or look away. I just _couldn't_.

The Joker narrowed his eyes slightly, and then, to my surprise, released my chin as he said quietly, "You must still…_love_ him, don't you?"

That made me angry. "You think I _love_ him?" I demanded, coldly. "After what he _did_ to me? Broke my heart and then threw me away like I was trash? That bastard doesn't deserve to _live_!"

"Then why did you stop me from hurting him?" the Joker asked, his tone hard.

I had opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn't find the words to explain what I did before. I could only say, "I _hate_ him, more than I could _possibly_ hate anyone else."

"I have a theory…that under all the hate you feel towards _Hawk_-ins, you really _do_ still love him. You say how much you _despise_ him, but you won't admit how much you love him." The Joker traced his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. "Don't deny it, Shadow. You still _love_ Jason, no matter how much you _hate_ him."

I turned my head away, gazing off to the side. He was right, of course. Under the burning rage, I tried to hide the fact that I still loved Jason, despite his betrayal, despite how he had tried to kill me. Even after four years, my feelings for him had not diminished.

"Maybe I _do_ still love him," I said quietly. I turned my head to meet his eyes. "What are _you_ going to do about it?"

I had expected that to derail him, to throw him off his game. I knew of his feelings for me, knew of my _own_ feelings for the crazy clown. And now, I had emotions conflicting inside me, for _whom_ my love truly _belonged_ to: the Police Lieutenant who had betrayed me or the Clown Prince of Crime, my partner-in-crime…

The Joker took my chin again, gently this time, his brown eyes turning soft. I couldn't help but wish for nothing but to simply stare into those brown orbs and lose myself in them. Because of Jason, old wounds had opened inside me, and I was becoming overwhelmed with sorrow and pain. Despite having cried my last tears, the pain had not disappeared.

I wanted to be distracted; I didn't want to face my inner pain.

I continued to stare into the Joker's eyes, realizing that he was leaning in carefully, slowly as if not to scare me. In my chest, my heart began to pound furiously, and as he drew closer, I could feel his body heat radiating off him. His scent – the smell of sweat, explosives, and…madness – rolled over me, overwhelming me and dimming my senses to anything else but him.

The tentative touch of the Joker's scarred lips sent shivers through me, but they weren't of revulsion. Instinctively, I tried to push him away, but his hands caught mine, pressing them down on either side of my head. I couldn't struggle; I felt like I needed this. I wanted a distraction, any kind of distraction, even if it was the Joker who was providing it.

The kiss deepened as the Joker's hands released mine. I slid my hands up his torso, over his shoulders, along his neck, and into his hair, pulling him closer to me. He lifted a hand to my face, stroking it as our lips parted. Our tongues worked together perfectly, magically.

We parted for breath and then came back together, crushing our noses together as we grew aggressive. I slid my hands from his curly green hair and down his neck. He smiled into the kiss, the movement of his rough scars sending waves of energy through me.

My hands made their way down his muscular chest where I unbuttoned his vest. Our lips parted, but his lips never left my skin. He traced kisses on my cheek, along my jaw, down my neck. I couldn't stop the moan that escaped my lips as I tore his vest off him, beginning on the buttons of his hexagonal shirt.

Abruptly, the Joker tore away from me; his hands removing mine from his shirt and pushing them back down on the bed. I stared at him in confusion, breathing heavily, not understanding why he had broken away from me.

Conflicting emotions swirled in his brown depths as he stared at me. His tongue flickered out over his scarred lips, his bottom lip trembling slightly. His breathing was uneven, heavy like mine from the action.

"You…you don't…want to be…_doing_ this, Shadow," the Joker panted breathlessly as he released my hands.

"Yes, I _do_," I protested, reaching for him. "I love you."

This time, he was rough as he grabbed my hands again, pushing them down, his grip vice-like. "No, you love the _Joker_, not _me_," he growled.

I didn't struggle against his painful grip, caught by his words, staring at him with bewilderment. "But…_you're_ the Joker," I said, confused.

The Joker lifted his head, looking at the headboard of the bed, a cruel forced chuckle escaping his lips. "That's who I _am_, not who I _used_ to be." He climbed off me and the bed swiftly, moving away as I propped myself up on my elbows.

"What does it matter?" I asked, uncertainly. "You were who you were in the past. You're who you are now. Does it really make a difference between you now and who you were then?"

"It _does_ make a difference," the Joker responded, still moving away. He stopped where his vest lay discarded on the floor. "You'll hate me…for who I was."

"How can I _hate_ you for who you were?" I asked, crawling to the end of the bed. "I didn't even _know_ you before you were the Joker."

He twisted his body to look at me. The expression on the Joker's face struck cold fear into me.

Disbelief overwhelmed me. "So…you knew me…all this time?" I asked, quietly.

The Joker turned away, ashamed as he said clearly, "Ever since your first night in Gotham…_Sara_."

My eyes widened as the Joker turned back to me, a hunched menacing figure despite having his hexagonal shirt open, revealing his muscular chest.

He stared at me with lifeless brown eyes, his Glasgow smile appearing gradually. The slow transformation scared me, but I braced myself against the truth of who the Joker was.

The man underneath the makeup…

The Joker licked his lips and turned his head to the side, widening his eyes slightly as he watched me. "There was a boy, four years older than you who befriended you back in middle school," he said, "Who became your only _best_-ah friend. Despite being four years older, he was only two grades higher because his _fa_-ther kept him bac_k_." My mouth went dry as my mind slowly registered the Joker's words. "This boy _cher_-ished you," he continued, narrowing his eyes. "Would get into fights to pro-_tect_ you. He would give up _any_-thing, just to _be_ with you. He rarely left your side, and was always there to keep you from doing anything…_irrational_.

"Then, the boy disappeared mys-_ter_-iously," the Joker continued, "During his freshman year of high school, you were in seventh grade. No one knew what _happened_ or why he had left, but he _hurt_ you by leaving you without even a simple good-_bye_; he didn't take the time to _lie_." The Joker sauntered over toward the bed where I slowly scrambled away from him, cringing as my mind clicked together the pieces.

The Joker halted upon reaching the bed, and he slowly chewed on the inside of his cheek. "The last time you _saw_ him, the last thing you _remember_, was the night you studied History with him, trying to, ah, to make sure he didn't fail the class 'cause he simply didn't have any _in_-terest…In. The. _Past_."

I scrambled for scattered conversations between us, between me and the Joker. He had hinted to things, left clues for me to find, to gather, and to analyze. I had never bothered to do what he thought I would do. I had paid no attention to his hints. All this time, it had been so _obvious_ that I couldn't have figured it out.

The memory of seeing the Joker's past memory of him and the young man returned, and it suddenly clicked. I _knew_ who the young man was.

The Joker leaned forward, placing his hands flat on the bed, his eyes boring into mine. "Say it, Sara," he whispered. "Say it…"

I knew what he wanted me to say.

He had told me before, during what he called my "job interview", that he wouldn't kill me unless he revealed his real name. Now, with all the hints that suddenly clicked in my mind and made _sense_, and with the story he told me about my best friend…it was so _obvious_. I _knew_ the Joker's name, I _knew_ who he _was_ and who he _is_. He was trying to avoid fulfilling his promise to kill me if he told me his name. The only way to avoid that was for _me_ to find what his name was, to speak it aloud.

Yet, I couldn't make myself do it.

I didn't want to say it because that would be that I've accepted who he was and who he used to be. I couldn't do that to the Joker, to my _best friend_. If I said his name, I would shatter my image of who he used to be, and I couldn't do that. I had clung to the hope that he was still who he used to be for twelve years; I had hoped to find him and see that he had not changed much.

Now, I find myself confronted with the boy who I had befriended back in middle school. He wasn't who he used to be, and because he had subtly told me what happened to him with his scar stories, I knew _why_ he became the Joker.

I collapsed backwards onto my back, closing my eyes tightly as it dawned on me that I was left with a painful decision…to either speak the Joker's true name or to let him tell me and have him kill me.

The bedroom seemed too quiet, despite my uneven breathing and the beating of my heart that threatened to burst from my chest. I remained lying on my back, my arms fallen lifeless out to the sides. I kept my eyes sealed shut, wishing to simply fall into darkness.

"Shadow…" The sound of his voice, I found myself breathing softer, simply to hear him. There was no hint of anger or sadness in his voice, just patience for a response, yet I didn't give him one.

I felt the end of the bed near my feet sink, and I lifted my eyelids enough to see through my eyelashes, enough to see that the Joker had climbed onto the bed. He crawled slowly over me, keeping me trapped underneath him as the bed moved when he shifted his weight. When all I could see without moving my head was his muscular chest showing through his open shirt, I closed my eyes again.

I listened to the Joker's breathing, and I thought I could hear something like the beating of his heart, but I could've been imagining it.

"Shadow?" the Joker said, his tone curious. When I didn't respond, he repeated my name. "_Sha_-dow?"

"_Jo_-ker?" I said, mimicking him.

He chuckled softly, and then leaned closer to me so that I could feel his breath on my neck as he whispered into my ear, "What-ah is my _name_, Sara _Rey_-nolds?"

I hesitated, wetting my trembling lips, and then said, "Jack Napier."

As the Joker moved away, I opened my eyes, meeting his as a grin formed on his face. "Was that _hard_, Shadow?" the Joker asked me, his eyes alit with excitement.

I stared at him, impassively, which confused him. "You don't know what I just did, Jack," I said, my voice shaky. "You're not who you used to be. I can't accept this…yet you…you forced me to. I didn't think you'd become someone like this, Jack." My eyes stared to blur, and I blinked harshly, trying to fight the urge to cry.

I reached up and touched the Joker's scars lightly. He flinched away from my touch, startled, but I tried again, caressing the rough skin. He closed his eyes and sighed as I traced my finger back and forth along his scarred smile. I continued to feel the rough tissue of his scars, making my fingertips tingle. The Joker's reaction to my delicate touch revealed the startling affect on him.

He relaxed, his hunched shoulders slumping and his head dripping low and to the sides as if to guide where he wanted my fingers to touch his scars. On either side of my head, his hands slowly grabbed fistfuls of the blanket as his body shivered with pleasure. I slid a finger along his right scar, over his lips, and up his left scar, remembering the story behind each scar.

Then, the Joker opened his eyes, and his infamous Glasgow smile appeared on his face. "I'll admit that I hadn't expected such…ac-_cep_-tance from you, Shadow," he said, turning his head and nuzzling my hand like a puppy. Some of his hair fell in his face as he jerked his head.

A small smile stretched its way across my lips. _He_ thought everything was okay, believed that I had accepted who he was and who he is. The situation was so…_similar_ to Jason and me. And I was reacting the _same…way._

Roughly, hands on his chest, I shoved him off me, nearly throwing him off the bed entirely. I jumped off the bed and ran for the door. I managed to turn the doorknob and start to pull it open, but then a switchblade flew and stuck into the doorframe beside my head.

Angered, I spun around, glaring daggers at the Joker as he stood mere feet away from me. "Ac-_cep_-tance?" I asked, mocking his tone. "You expect _me_…to accept what you did…" A growl emanated from the back of my throat. "You're _just. Like. Jason._"

"I'm not," the Joker argued, matching my angry tone. "No, I'm no_t_." He sauntered towards me, halting when he was right up close. Reaching beside my head, he grabbed the handle of his switchblade but didn't try pulling it out. Looming into my face, he said, "I _told_ you…you would _hate_ me if you knew. You'd blame me for leaving you, twelve years old, _alone_. Don't try blaming me for the return of your _real_ father."

"I wasn't," I said, coldly, my eyes narrowed. "I just blame you. Who I knew as Jack Napier is _dead_. All that's left behind is an empty shell who cares _nothing_ about the world around him."

His free hand came and smashed into the door on the other side of my head, yanking out his switchblade at the same time. Even as rage flashed across his eyes, I didn't flinch, my own anger keeping fear at bay.

"No, let me re_phrase_ that," I said. "You're not an empty shell. You're a crazy mass-murderer."

He opened his mouth to speak, but I didn't give him the chance.

"It doesn't matter who you were in the past! What you were like is _dead_, Joker! You hear me, _DEAD_! My best friend no longer exists because you _killed him_! You _bastard_!" I struck him, hitting his jaw and causing him to stumble to the side. As he turned back to face me, I saw that the Joker's face had become livid, and there was blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

At the sight of the blood, I realized that this scene was familiar. I had been through it before, not with Jason, but with the Joker. I tried locating where I had seen it before, but I couldn't before the Joker _snapped_.

He threw himself at me, pressing me hard against the wall, trapping me so that I couldn't move anything. We leered at one another, both shaking with fury. My knuckles hurt from clenching my fists so hard, but I didn't relax, trembling with the little control I had. The Joker leaned his face close to mine. Being so close, I could feel his intense body heat that had risen with his anger.

"Call me…a bastard…_one_ more time," the Joker growled, rolling his switchblade in his hand.

I glared with absolute hatred. I opened my mouth to say it, and then stopped, recognizing where I had seen this scene before.

I had dreamt it. It had been the same night that I had told him that I chose him over Dean. The Joker had told me the _real_ version of his first scar, about his crazy stepmother and his father who enjoyed watching his son get _beaten_ by his second wife. I pinched my eyes closed, remembering in my dream, that if I called the Joker a bastard one more time, he ended up _killing_ me.

I had dreamt the future.

When I opened my eyes, the Joker was still seething with anger, waiting for my response. I took a deep breath, releasing my rage, and said quietly, "I forgive you."

That derailed him, sending him into a sudden change of emotion, from fury to confusion. "What?" he said, his tone confused.

"I forgive you," I repeated. "You were right, back in the car when you asked me your question. You didn't say anything about it, but I'm pretty sure it was on your mind at the time…whether or not I hated you for leaving me like that." I hung my head. "I suppose I _did_ hate you, but I tried to think that you had a reason. I _think_ I know the reason now, but I'm not sure." I lifted my head, meeting his eyes, as I reached up with a hand and touched one of his scars.

He flinched at the sudden touch, but didn't move away as I traced it to the corner of his mouth. "I just wish…you had told me _earlier_," I said, quietly.

"I _told_ you," the Joker said, "If I told you my name, I'd kill you."

"No, you wouldn't."

"Dare to try me?" Ever though he was threatening me, I didn't care for it.

"Why didn't you tell me _before_ you made that…_bind_? I would have-."

"Hated me all the same, possibly more." The Joker chewed on the inside of his cheek as he shifted his weight, his eyes rising to the wall. "I had to earn your _trust_ first, so that you'd _trust_ my words, rather than lose your head."

"I did though."

"I think it would've been that way, no matter _what_ happened." He lowered his head so that it was almost even height with mine as our gazes locked. "You thought you'd never see your best friend again, yet I'm standing _right here_, right before your eyes." He licked his lips and asked, "Doesn't that make up for what I did, just now?"

"I don't know," I said, honestly, breaking eye contact. His hand lifted to grab my chin, but I grabbed it gently, pulling it down beside me. The other one, that still held his switchblade, rose beside my head, and he rested his forearm against the wall, waiting for my explanation.

I didn't give one, feeling at a loss for words. I just gently swung my hand, still clasped with the Joker's, our fingers intertwined. With my head bowed slightly, a strand of hair fell into my face, but I flipped it back with a toss of my head. "You know, you're a jerk."

He blinked, surprised as strands of hair fell into his face. "Why am _I_ the jerk?" he asked, amused. "Just because I was _afraid_ of you."

I scoffed as I brushed the Joker's green hair out of his face. "Don't make me laugh. You, the _Joker_, afraid of the likes of _me_. That's outrageous."

The Joker chuckled softly as he leaned in closer, his hot breath mingling with mine. "Everyone has a fear, Shadow. I'm not so _low_ that I lack one." I smiled at that, ducking my head down again, but when I lifted it, the grin faded.

The Joker became quiet, the laughter gone from his eyes. His tongue darted out to the corner of his mouth, touching a scar as his eyes darted about my face. He didn't lock gazes with me as he slowly moved in, his scarred mouth barely brushing mine.

Just a simple touch and he pulled away, still very close, before he came back in to brush lips with me again.

My heart pounded furiously in my chest as he continued to _tease_ me. It's very hard for me to forgive someone who had done something to hurt me; that someone was usually lucky if I simply remained neutral and acted as though nothing had happened. Having forgiven him, I unlocked the door I had hid my feelings for him behind, and now, knowing who he really was, those feelings _intensified_.

The only thing that annoyed me was that now, he was _playing_ with me, _teasing_ my love for him, just waiting for me to snap.

He brought his lips close, but with barely a millimeter between, he stopped, trying to keep from laughing. "How long…can you _control_ yourself, Shadow?" he whispered. I could see the amusement in his eyes, could hear it in his tone. "Keep holding yourself back and you'll, ah, _explode_."

"And I'm sure you'll enjoy watching that," I retorted, stiffly.

He leaned his head back, overcome with amused laughter.

I couldn't take it anymore. With my free hand, I grabbed his necktie, twisted it around my hand, and then pulled him towards me, bringing him to me so I could press my lips against his. His mouth moved with mine gracefully, and when we separated for breath, he said, "Congratulations, Shadow; you've _finally_ caught me off guard."

"Never said I was _finished_ with you yet," I mocked him before pulling him back.

The only sounds in the room were our heavy breathing and our lips working together with graceful synchronization. Our clasped hands let go, and I wrapped my free arm around his neck, leaning into him. He dropped his switchblade and placed both hands on my sides, resting them there for a few seconds before sliding them down and under my thighs.

He picked me up, pressing me higher up the wall. For more support, I encircled my legs around his torso as I released his tie and wrapped my other arm around his neck.

We broke apart again, foreheads pressed together, and I couldn't help the laughter that slipped through my lips. The Joker joined me, the chaotic laughter being contagious. Our eyes met, and we seemed to communicate telepathically.

The Joker carried me over to the bed and simply dropped me on it. I giggled as I bounced on my back, outstretching my arms toward him. He kicked off his shoes, tore off his tie, and then leaped onto the bed, trapping me underneath him.

I fell silent as I saw the serious gleam in his eyes. He stared at me. I stared back. The silence only lasted about five seconds before I laughed at the puppy look he flashed me, and the Joker joined me, placing his hands on the sides of my face. He cut off our laughter by pressing his lips to mine, passionately. As our mouths moved aggressively, like our lives depended on it, our hands moved, undressing by degrees, our clothing falling discarded on the floor.

I won't go into explicit detail. It was truly one of my most memorable times with Jack Napier.

That's _all_ anyone needs to know.

* * *

**Lordlink13: Whoa! Joker and Shadow _are_ official! Makes me happy, even though I might have scared some readers away. *calls* COME BACK!  
**


	34. There, Then Gone

While he slept, I stared at the Joker's flawless features around his scarred mouth. His paint had smeared into the creases of his face, fading in some places to reveal his perfect skin, and I could see the man underneath the makeup. I could recognize my best friend from middle school, the one who had left me alone when I was only twelve.

I lifted a hand to his face, my finger tracing the scars that formed his Glasgow grin, a smile that would _never_ be erased from his face. I felt little sympathy for him because he obviously _loved_ having the scars, the smile forever. Covering it wasn't something the Joker took lightly; tracing it with red lipstick brought it out for everyone to see, he wasn't trying to hide it.

The Joker sighed as he adjusted his position in his sleep, scrunching his closed eyes as his scarred lips moved, muttering something under his breath. I ignored him and his mutters, busy tracing his scars. Finally, he muttered a bit clearly, "Can't sleep…with you…_pawing_…my face…Sara…"

I dropped my hand, trying to keep myself from laughing, as he buried his face into the pillow. Positive that he wasn't going to wake up, I snuggled into his warm chest, listening to his even breathing. He shifted again, sliding an arm under my body while draping the other over me, enclosing me in a sleep hug. His warmth provided a blanket for me, even though the covers were pulled over us. His breathing and the warmth made me sleepy, causing me to relax and close my eyes.

"_C'mon, Sara, why won't you join us?"_

"_I don't want to, Jack."_

_He cocked his head to the side, chewing on his bottom lip. "Surely playing kickball is more fun than reading a book. Besides, you can…read some other time, whenever you want."_

_I put my book down and glared into those brown eyes. "There is one thing you would never understand about me, Jack, and that's my love for books."_

"_I understand how they, ah, turned you into a shadow."_

_I sniffed, irritated with him. "Go play kickball, Jack, and leave me in peace."_

_He grinned, looking so handsome without trying to. Casually, he brushed a bunch of his dirty blond hair out of his face. "Sara, if you're afraid of playing a game in gym because you got hit in the head with a softball-."_

"_I'm not!" I snarled at him. "Just go away and leave the shadow alone!"_

_Jack frowned, looking angry. "One of these days, Sara, I swear, I'll make you play a game with a whole group of people, not just me!"_

_I grunted and turned my attention back to my book. He stormed off the bleachers, joining his team on the kickball field. Only after he left did I look up. I put a finger in my place and closed the book, watching Jack._

_He stood ready, about to be the first kicker in the game. From the bleachers, I could see that he was shaking with a mixture of energy and anger. He hunched his shoulders and twisted his body, constantly shifting his feet like he couldn't stand still. His eyes seemed to darken, and he looked menacing._

_The wind blew his hair into his face, and he used a trembling hand to brush it back a bit, not completely taking it out of his face._

_I watched, shocked to see this different side of Jack. Looking at him, I actually found that I had a liking for him, a liking that went beyond friendship, but it wasn't love. No, it was admiration. I felt admiration for what Jack could become if he followed through with all the anger and put all of his energy into one thing._

_The pitcher rolled the ball at Jack at a fast speed, but for some reason, everything seemed to have slowed down. I watched Jack as he bounced into the air once, his eyes on the ball, but then, he turned his head to look over at me. His eyes met mine, and a smile appeared upon his angry face. His mouth seemed to stretch beyond the normal limits, and he winked at me._

_The Joker was there…lurking underneath the teenager Jack._

_Jack turned his head back to the ball that seemed to have just left the pitcher's hand, and he watched it for awhile before glancing over at me again._

"_For you, Shadow," he mouthed, and then he turned his attention back to the ball. It was coming toward him at a faster pace, like time was beginning to return to normal. Jack bounced up and down twice and then started walking toward the ball. Then, I saw him lift a foot higher than usual, and he bounced on his back foot. He repeated this, hunched shoulders with a wide grin on his face._

_Jack had formed the Joker's strange gait within those long seconds. He sauntered toward the ball and then bounced once before swinging his leg, his foot connecting with the ball, slipping underneath it and smacking it with a loud crack._

_Time returned to normal, and the ball soared up into the air, out into the field. I watched as Jack's team cheered him on as he raced around the bases. He ran around them twice and then bounced into home. With two points in the start of the game, Jack's team jumped on him, high-fiving and clapping him on the back._

_His smile was wide with his team members, but not as wide as when he met my eyes._

I surfaced from my memory-dream as the Joker shifted beside me. When he moved, a whiff of cold air blew between us, and I shivered, cuddling deeper into his bare chest for his body warmth.

"Just a bit _chilly_," the Joker's voice said, close to my head. He pushed himself up with an arm, and I sensed his body moving over mine. I opened my eyes and looked up at him, seeing his muscles rippling easily in his lean frame.

His curly green-tinted hair fell in his face, but he used a hand to push it back casually as his brown eyes met mine, stirring my emotions instantly. He brought a hand to my face, tucking a strand of red hair behind my ear, so gently. I simply gazed into his eyes, understanding the secrets that he had hidden from me.

Everything about him called out to me. His body heat radiating off him that tumbled over me. His strong body that was shaped so perfectly. His scars that defined who he was. His title and his name…I knew them both now; his deepest secrets were mine. I lifted a hand and touched his bare chest, feeling his heat warm my fingers. The Joker may be a mass-murdering terrorist, but he knew what he was doing. I couldn't stop myself. He was so _sexy_, scars and all.

"C'mon, Shadow," the Joker said, gently drawing away from me. "We can't stay in bed _all_ _day_."

"Ya know, we _could_," I told him, smirking.

The Joker erupted with laughter, but he climbed out of bed anyway, moving about the room, pulling on his clothing and tossing mine at me before heading into the bathroom to reapply his makeup. "No-no-no-_no_, Shadow. I've got ah-_nother_ idea."

I smirked and leaned over the edge of the bed, pulling on my leather pants. I had just lifted my shirt over my head when the Joker suddenly dragged me down on the bed. I laughed, amused with my arms trapped in my shirt over my head as the Joker hovered over me, his face newly painted.

"On _second_ thought," he drawled, "You're simply too _irresistible_." He giggled before leaning in and kissing me pleasantly.

I smiled into the kiss as I slipped my arms out of my entrapping shirt.

Then, there was a rapid knock on the door.

The Joker stiffened and pushed himself up. As he moved away, I grabbed his jacket and yanked him back. I groped for his lips before I pressed mine against his again. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kept the Joker with me. He relaxed, forgetting about the intruder.

"Boss?" Whoever it was started pounding on the door, like they were desperate about something. The Joker and I openly ignored them. He began kissing my neck while I tried to come up with some kind of comeback.

"Boss, it's _really_ important!" The desperate guy on the other side of the door pulled the last straw. I heard the door slam open. Without thinking, I reached for the nightstand where I knew a gun rested. My hand met the Joker's; he was reaching for it too. We picked up the gun, aimed at the door, and pulled the trigger – without breaking the kiss.

There was the echoing gunshot and a thud as the man dropped.

I started laughing, pulling away from the Joker to do so. He joined me without hesitation. We dropped the gun on the floor, and the Joker kissed me again, only able to peak me since he was still laughing hysterically.

"Boss!" The Joker and I cut off our laughter sharply, glaring over at the next intruder at the door. It was Dean. Even though he was clearly shocked by seeing me with the Joker on the bed, he managed a clear, steady voice as he said, "The prisoner's escaped."

"_WHAT?_" The Joker rolled off me, bouncing to his feet while I scrambled to pull on my shirt again. When I turned back, the Joker had Dean by his shirt, shaking him. "How did he get out?" he yelled.

"Peter was on guard, and when I went to take over, the door was broken and Hawkins and Peter were gone," Dean explained. The Joker looked over his shoulder to see me approaching, and then he broke into a run down the hallway. Without hesitation, I fell in behind him, and Dean followed suite.

The three of us burst out into the hangar where all of the Joker's men were hanging around, completely confused. The Joker hit the railing so hard that I was scared he would flip right over it and fall to the ground below, but he caught himself, gripping the railing tightly.

"What _car_ is missing?" the Joker shouted, his voice deep with rage.

I came up behind him as one of the guys responded, "The Volvo, boss." A savage growl emanated from the Joker, and his knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on the railing. I placed a cautious hand on his arm, and he jumped, nearly losing his anger as he whipped his head in my direction.

"I'm going after him," I said.

"Shadow, I don't want you-."

"We've already decided that you're _not_ my boss," I growled at him, cutting him off. "We're partners, equals. I'm just telling you the _base_ of what I'm doing." Then, I winked as I added, "I'll improvise from there."

He stared for a few moments, like he didn't know how to respond to that, but then his mouth stretched into a smile, not his best but it was better than nothing. I patted his arm and then headed down the stairs, two steps at a time.

The Joker's men moved out of my way as I headed toward where the Volvo had been parked. I took a deep breath and activated my shadow vision, revealing the past traces of the car. Crouching, I touched the ground and closed my eyes.

A tingling sensation shot through me, and I shuddered as my shadow connected to the past shadow of the car. A vivid image appeared in my mind's-eye, the edges hazed with purple.

_The Volvo was still parked there; I was a mere few inches away from the bumper. Footsteps clattered down the metal stairs from the upstairs catwalk. I turned my head, spotting Jason as he leapt the last few steps. Someone was running behind him, and as Jason headed toward the open hangar door, that someone – Peter – said, "Not _that_ way, stupid! The car's over _here_!"_

"What is she doing, boss-?" The man cut off with a pained grunt and a cry of pain as he got punched in the face, knocking him to the ground.

"Speak again, and I'll cut your tongue _out_-ah," the Joker threatened. "Break her concentration, and I'll _kill_ you; and I won't be using a gun. Got it?"

I smiled in spite of myself, even though – _I was watching Jason make a break for the Volvo. Peter beat him to it and slammed him up against the driver's door. "I'll drive," he said, angrily. He shoved a cell phone into Jason's hand and said, "Call your _pals_ and tell them where you were taken." He pulled Jason away from the car and opened the driver's side._

_Jason lunged at him, but Peter spun, like he was sensing it, and slammed the lieutenant down to the ground. "Don't _turn_ on me, Hawkins," Peter growled, his voice deep, savage, inhuman. "Get in the car and call the cops. Otherwise, I'll shot you right now." To prove his point, he pulled his gun from his pocket and aimed it at Jason's head. "Understand?"_

_Jason swallowed and then nodded. Peter took his gun away and stepped into the car. The lieutenant hesitated, but when he saw Peter looking at him through the window, he scrambled to his feet and moved around to climb into the passenger's seat._

_When Peter started the car, I stood up and started to follow – _but a hand clasped my upper arm, holding me back. _I turned my head, to see nothing, but I knew _– I would be looking right into the Joker's face.

"Let go," I whispered. "I have to follow the shadow trail." His grip slacked and then tightened, like he was uncertain. In my shadow vision, _the Volvo was getting away._ I felt something slip into my pocket; then, I tore my arm away from him and _broke into a run, racing after the Volvo._

_I shadowed to the roof of buildings the Volvo drove by, keeping my eye on it and also looking out for the possible appearance of the Joker's pal, the Batman. Even if he wasn't in the past, it was likely he could be there when I appear, but it was a risk I had to take._

Suddenly, my shadow vision snapped off as I leaned over the edge of a business building. I took that as a sign that the trail ended below me, so I shadowed down to the street, standing by a lamppost.

I heard a soft rumble down the road, and I glanced over my shoulder, seeing that the street was empty, except for a silver Volvo, the one I was trailing. The rumble told me that either Peter had left the car on or someone was in there. After checking for any sign of other cars, I stepped off the sidewalk, jaywalking toward the Volvo.

The car's headlights flashed on, and I blinked, momentarily blinded. I lifted a hand to protect my eyes from the light, coming to a halt in the middle of the street. The Volvo rumbled again, and I knew whoever was in the car was getting ready…for what? Blinding me with his highbeams was a hint.

Abruptly, the Volvo jerked forward as the driver slammed on the gas pedal, and it picked up speed smoothly and rapidly. I turned and ran, jumping back onto the sidewalk, but the driver was desperate, running the car up onto the curb behind me.

The Volvo was mere inches from me as I turned the corner sharply, hugging the brick wall. As the car spun the corner, I slipped back the way I had come, and I could hear the squealing of the tires as the driver backed up and straightened, heading for me again.

I stopped in the middle of the street again as an idea popped into my head. Turning around, I noticed that the driver had stopped the car at the end of the street, making it rumble as he jerked on and off the gas pedal, revving the engine. Did he think that would scare me?

I had to provoke him. I outstretched my arms and stood there, waiting. When he didn't come, I shouted, "_Hit_ me, _coward_! I _dare_ you!"

The driver slammed down on the gas pedal, and the tires squealed in protest. I watched as the car lunged forward, speeding toward me.

For a moment, I feared for my safety, my life. Whoever was driving that car – whether it was Peter or Jason – one of them wanted me dead. If they actually hit me, I hoped it would be a flash of pain, and I'd probably lose my legs with the compact. What was worse: me dying or the Joker's reaction to my death?

The car sped toward me, and when it was mere inches from me, I jumped, shadowing as I did. I landed on the top of the car and didn't get a chance to gain hold on it because it was so smooth. I fell off the Volvo and rolled on the ground, scrapping myself in the progress.

I came to a stop, and I gasped with pain. My mind raced, finding the agony's locations. Both knees, my right leg, left hand, left elbow, left side, right shoulder, left cheek, back of head, over my right eye…there was the pain and the trickle of blood coming from some places. It had been more the scrapping rather than the bruising, but I was definitely going to hurt tomorrow morning.

I winced as I sat up, locating the car – far down the road and in the process of using the emergency break. Climbing painfully to my feet, I registered that even though the Volvo was using the break, it was going too fast to slow down in time. The driver tried turning the steering wheel, but the car skidded and slammed into an arcade building at the end of the street.

The front windows of the arcade broke as the car went through sideways, coming to a stop in the lobby. It rested there, unmoving, and it didn't seem like there was any movement from _inside_ the car. I blinked for a few moments, unsure of what to do, but when nothing happened, I checked my condition.

The knees of my jeans were torn, showing scrapped and bleeding knees. I couldn't move my right leg without it hurting, and my left side ached but because I wore a leather jacket, it saved my side, elbow, and shoulder from any scrapping or blood. They hurt nonetheless. I must have hit my head, and my cheek and over my eye blood was tricking. I would survive though.

My left hand was in the worst condition as I had attempted to catch myself and scrapping up my entire palm, tearing the skin. Strangely enough, it didn't hurt, like it was beyond pain.

There was still no movement from the Volvo so I started forward, walking with a limp as my right leg hurt whenever I shifted my weight on it. I approached the car and bent over slightly, peeking in through the back window. I couldn't see the driver, but I saw the passenger's head hanging over the side of the seat.

Being careful with the broken glass, I climbed over the car to reach the passenger's side. The door was jammed in, but I propped a foot against the side of the Volvo, grabbed the handle in both hands, and heaved.

It gave way, and I was nearly thrown backwards onto a load of broken glass. I caught myself on the windowframe, cutting my right hand on the shards of glass there, instead. Whimpering, I jerked my hand away and examined it, picking out a small piece from a cut. Despite the bloodied hands, I reached inside the Volvo, unbuckling the passenger's seatbelt and then pulling him out.

I dragged him to the floor and then bent over him. Even with the blood that caked the right side of his face, I recognized Jason Hawkins.

In my pocket, a cell phone vibrated. It must have been what the Joker had dropped into my pocket earlier, before I left. As I pushed Jason's hair out of his face, I reached to grab the phone before I missed the call. A hand snapped down on my wrist, and I felt the cold kiss of a gun barrel pressed against my neck.

I could hear my capturer's uneven breathing as he slowly reached into my pocket, pulling out the phone. I heard the cell hit the ground off to the side, sliding under an arcade game.

"Drop all weapons you might have and stand up," Peter's rough voice ordered. I lifted my free hand up in surrender as I slowly straightened. "I've had _enough_ of your meddling in my affairs."

I jerked my head away from the end of the gun, spinning as my free hand came up and grabbed the weapon, forcing my attacker to aim the gun high. My arms were crossed in front of my face as I jerked his other arm up painfully.

I looked into his face, finding blood dripping down his facial expression from his forehead from hitting it on the steering wheel. I tried to hide my confusion as I said, "_Your_ affairs? Like I purposely _meddle_ in them."

His lifeless eyes glared at me. "You've been too much trouble to be left _alive_," he growled.

"_I'm_ a lot of trouble?" I sneered. "Maybe you don't realize that the Joker enjoys having me around."

"That's because you have him under your control," he snapped as he struggled against me, trying to turn his gun down to aim at my head.

I kneed him hard, reaching for the weapon, but he clenched it harder, to stop me from retrieving it. He pushed away from me but kept a hand on my wrist. "Wanna try again, Peter?" I asked him tauntingly. "Why is it that you care so much about the Joker?"

Peter didn't respond, pointing his weapon at me. I brought up my leg, kicking the gun out of his hand. As he gasped in pain, I punched him in the face, freeing my wrist from his grasp. "Does the Joker really seem like a man _anyone_ can _control_?" I demanded.

Peter narrowed his eyes, and then suddenly, burst into a fit of laughter, his laugh sounding deep and…_insane_. It caused cold shivers to run up my spine. He couldn't stop, seeming to choke every time he inhaled. I didn't think I had said anything funny, and this was surely too scary for me to take anymore.

Abruptly, Peter cut off his laughter and glared at me, his expression stoical. "A shadow like you deserves _nothing_ but death, and only a hunter can give it to you," he sneered. "A corrupt policeman like _him_" – he jerked his head in Jason's direction – "Wouldn't do it, even to an _abomination_ like you."

I blinked, shocked by his choice of words, but had to overcome my surprise as he charged at me, pulled out a dagger.

I shadowed to his left, and he surprised me when he instantly changed his course, aiming at me again. At the last possible second, I twirled out of the way, but his dagger still nicked my bloody hand as I went.

The nick had done more than it should have. I countered by tripping Peter, causing him to slam into a car-racing game, but I recognized the effects of an anesthetic.

A wave of drowsiness flooded through me quicker than anything else could have. For some reason, the drug also awakened all the pain in my body, stealing a scream of agony from me as I dropped to my knees.

Peter laughed, loving the sound of my anguish, and it made me angry. I never liked hearing someone laugh at my pain; if anything, the Joker was an exception because he helped me while he laughed at me. Peter's cruel laughter wasn't something I liked in the first place.

Even as the anesthetic flooded through my veins, my shadow state kicked in, pushing me beyond the limits of my physical body, turning my entire form into a solid shadow. Rage fueled my new state; it was a drug pulsing through me, holding off the anesthetic. Shock flashed in Peter's eyes as I pushed myself to my feet.

I jerked my head to the side, cracking my neck loudly. "C'mon then, Peter. Let's see if you're good enough to catch me again."

Peter came forward but ducked as I swung at him. He dove in to try to stab me again, but with a burst of energy, I pushed off the ground and somersaulted over him, landing and purposely falling backward to knock him to the ground. He didn't expect the sudden weight so he fell over. I kicked off the ground, backward somersaulting over him and coming to my feet.

Grabbing the back of his jacket, I heaved him off the floor and kicked him in the face. He cried out in pain, blood bursting from his nose as he dropped the dagger. I stomped hard on the back of his head, slamming it down onto the ground.

I thought I had the upper-hand, but he knocked my free leg out from underneath me with his arm. Rather than fall to the ground, I shadowed myself upright a few feet away.

Peter jumped to his feet, grabbing his dagger, and raced toward me. I couldn't move fast enough so he slammed into me, my hand catching his wrist to halt the dagger's descent. Peter smashed me into a rifle arcade game, causing the butts of the play rifles to poke painfully into my back.

A gun fired, and Peter gritted his teeth in pain. His body was pressed against mine as he tried to keep me trapped against the arcade game. I didn't dare turn my head to see who had shot him because I had to focus on the slowly descending poisoned dagger.

Peter, despite being shot, used his strength against mine, bringing his weapon closer and closer to my chest.

Another gunshot went off, and Peter's strength faltered for a second, giving me a chance to push the dagger away from me a bit. The anger that had pushed back the effects of the anesthetic was wearing off; my strength was failing, and my resistance lessened. Beads of sweat dripped down my face as I watched the dagger drop suddenly.

At the same time, I kicked his leg, unbalancing him slightly. Peter missed his target – my chest – and stabbed me in the arm.

I hollered in agony as the burn of the poison burst from the dagger. Peter, his weapon finally in his prey, stepped back, watching me as I slipped off the arcade game, collapsing onto my side.

Hot pain shot up my arm, making me scream involuntarily. My right hand flew to the dagger hilt, and I yanked it out, gasping with pain. The anesthetic was taking rapid effect. My body started convulsing against my will. I tried to fight it, to stop my body's movements, but to no avail.

Someone crouched down beside me, and I looked up to see Peter smirking down at me as he produced a pair of handcuffs, which he used to secure me on part of the arcade game. "It's only a matter of time, Shadow," he said, cruelly. "You can't fight the anesthetic forever. When you're out, the poison will kill you. I will _finally_ have my boss, with you out of the picture."

"What do…you have _against_ me?" I gasped, struggling against the burning pain.

"_Everything_!" he snarled, angrily. "You took the boss away from me! He's _mine_! You're not _worthy_ of him! I've done _everything_ for him! He doesn't know what you've _done_ to him!" His nostrils flared. "Once you're dead, he'll be _free_ of your spell, and he'll come back to me."

It struck me. Why had Peter been so protective of the Joker all this time? How he _hated_ me! And now, it made sense to me; it just _clicked_.

"You're Hunter," I said, through trembling lips. "…you're in love with the Joker, with the Boss."

Sick passion crossed his face at the mention of his boss's name. Then, hatred replaced it. "You're a _stupid_ woman. It should've been so _obvious_!"

"Were you _trying_ to make it obvious?" I asked, my words slurring slightly.

"Of course _not_, stupid woman!" Peter shouted. He stood up angrily and looked about the ruined arcade. "This wouldn't be possible if the Boss hadn't taken the good lieutenant," he said, like he was talking to himself.

"Jason was part of this?"

"He worked for me." Peter turned his head and grinned menacingly at me. "Had you _killed_ him when you went to visit him, this wouldn't have happened. You'd be safely in the Boss's arms." He growled, his body shaking with pure fury. "But, it was your fault that you got into this situation, all yours."

That inhumane laughter erupted from deep within him, rippling through his body. I tuned him out, focusing on my current state. Bleeding and drugged with anesthetic and poison, yet the anesthetic seemed to have run its course. My body wasn't convulsing involuntarily, but I still trembled. Now, as long as I didn't lose conscious, I should be okay, right?

I heard a grunt over my head, and I looked, seeing Peter holding onto someone's arms wrapped around his neck. Over Peter's shoulder, Jason's face appeared.

Peter doubled over and dug his elbow into Jason's chest, knocking the wind out of him. He flipped him over his shoulder easily, throwing him down on the ground. I thought I heard something crack as Jason's back hit the floor, and I winced.

Peter crouched on one knee and grabbed Jason's throat in one hand. His eyes were serious, _evil_. "Turning on me, Hawkins? Do you _really_ want to die?"

"I didn't…agree to Jane…getting killed…" Jason gasped, his hands struggling at his neck.

"You didn't _mention_ her in our agreement, Hawkins," Peter said, his voice lifeless, sinister. "Maybe you should have thought things through a little more." He tightened his grip, blocking off Jason's windpipe.

"Let go of him, Peter," I said, pushing myself up slowly to a sitting position, "You're here for me, not for him. If you want to kill me, go ahead."

"I'll let the anesthetic do that," he replied, throwing a cold look in my direction. He narrowed his eyes and then released Jason before standing. I watched him as he walked over to the ruined Volvo and popped the trunk. He reached inside, and after pulling something out, he slammed the trunk shut. Then, he headed straight for me.

"No!" Jason shouted, "Don't kill her!" He had seen what Peter was holding, but I didn't see it until it was too late.

Peter swung, a whistling sound in the air as his weapon stuck me. Metal connected with my head, and an audible _crack_ echoed in the arcade. The intense pain lasted for the moment the metal bat had connected, and then it was gone.

I fell to the ground, lifelessly, my body numb. In my head, even with my eyes open, all my memories flashed across my mind's eye, like a movie on the fastest fast forward there was. Colors, pictures, movement, everything went across my mind and out of it.

It was all there for one moment, and then, all I had was an endless pit of empty darkness. I was there, then gone.


	35. Four Percent

He paced restlessly, his eyes darting about the hangar, watching every one of his guys' moves like a cornered animal. He could kill a man without even bothering about the consequences. He could patiently wait for a bomb to explode, or for the police to show up. He could even take a beating from Batman and laugh his head off in the process. Nothing was torture to him…

…except waiting for Shadow to return. That seems to be the one thing he _couldn't_ take.

The Joker jumped as one of his men dropped a heavy box of tools, and he spun and shot the man dead before even realizing what he was doing. His face was stoical as he turned around again and headed for the stairs to the catwalk, but inside his head, his thoughts and worries for Shadow's safety were whirling restlessly.

It hit him without warning. He fell forward, collapsing at the top of the stairs. Black explosions went off under his eyelids as his head connected with the metal catwalk. Convulsions stole his control, making him thrash wildly. A burning tide of vomit surged up his throat, filling his sinuses, his nose, his mouth…he heaved, choking on the vomit as it escaped him.

It was worse than taking medication in Arkham Asylum. He flopped onto his back, and involuntarily, his back arched, his rips creaking painfully.

"Boss!" Someone grabbed him under the arms and dragged him off the stairs and onto the catwalk. The Joker gasped, his throat constricting like someone was choking him. He moved a hand, grabbing onto his henchman's jacket but suddenly turned as he heaved, red vomit bursting from his mouth.

His henchman pushed him onto his side, and he fought him, bringing his hands up. "No, boss, it's me, Bleak!"

The convulsions hit again, and as his muscles flexed, he slammed his head down on the catwalk, causing darkness to take him.

It seemed like mere moments.

The Joker opened his eyes, groaning with the remnants of the pain. It had been from the inside out, something he couldn't just laugh off.

He was sitting, propped up against a wall, near the door on the catwalk. Moaning, he forced himself to a kneeling position and then pushed himself to a standing position, leaning against the wall for support. From that vantage point, he could see down to the ground floor, where his henchmen seemed to be scattered below, some holding bars while the others had raised fists.

The Joker moved toward the railing, gripping it to support himself, squinting down at his guys, not comprehending.

Then, a black form moved from under the catwalk and knocked down two of his guys in one hit. As the form proceeded to the next man, the Joker blinked with surprise. Batman was here!

Any other time, this would have excited him, would have caused him to run down there and jump into the battle, to face-off with his archrival…

The Joker collapsed to his knees, his muscles involuntarily giving up. What was going on? He growled as he gripped the railing with both hands, willing his legs to move. Slowly, and shakily, he came to his feet and turned for the stairs. The simple movement brought on a wave of nausea, and the hangar spun.

He was only aware of the falling sensation, and then, as his vision went black, he heard something hitting the metal stairs, falling and falling down them. He came to, lying on the ground at the bottom of the steps.

His body hurt all over, but he forced himself to his feet, staggering sideways and falling to the ground.

"No, _boss_!" The Joker pushed himself to his feet again, ignoring Bleak's yell. He stumbled a number of times as he headed in his henchmen's direction, where Batman would be. Batman knocked out the last of his men and turned to face him, ready to fight.

But the Joker didn't make it.

His body failed him, unable to hold his weight and to keep moving. He simply crumpled, landing on his side and then rolling onto his back. Spasms racked throughout his body. Liquid surged into his throat again, and he choked on it, aspirating the burning liquid. The tiny black explosions came back, and he tried turning his head against the spasms, but couldn't.

Then, abruptly, someone turned him over onto his side, and the liquid came out. The Joker coughed on it and then opened his eyes as he gasped for breath. The liquid that could have killed him was his own blood…

"Batman, step away from him!" The Joker wheezed as he looked up painfully, spotting Bleak as he pointed a gun over him. "He's not well. He'll go back to Arkham!" Bleak said. "I can hear the police sirens now. He needs an ambulance, not a-."

"Shadow," the Joker coughed suddenly. His eyes widened as he spotted her across the hangar. There was something different about her; she looked…see-through, melted into the shadows but he could still see her outline. She wasn't looking at him.

His hand twitched, and breathing heavily, he moved his arm, reaching in her direction. But a black gloved hand grabbed his wrist, stopping him. The Joker frowned as he slid his tongue over his lower lip, tasting a mixture of blood and vomit.

"I told you to step _away_ from him!" Bleak yelled.

"Shadow…I shouldn't have let you go…" he whispered, his voice cracking. She wasn't solid; he could tell. That could only mean one thing…and it hurt. "I'm…sorry. I wasn't…_there_." He closed his eyes tightly, feeling a lump form in his throat, but he wasn't going to free it. Instead, he would find whoever had done this to her.

The police sirens were echoing inside the hangar, but the Joker didn't care. He gave no reaction as two EMTs heaved him off the floor and onto a stretcher. With cold fury burning in his chest, the Joker left the conscious world, giving into a darkness where no feeling existed.

* * *

_Drifting…simply drifting. Lost in a world of whiteness. A dull pain throbbed in the head. An ache in the chest. No breath taken in. Nothing moved._

_A shock ran through her, causing her to jump on the table, but still she rested without taking a breath._

_Oxygen forced into her. The charge recharged. Yet another shock._

_The heart monitor jumped with her, but didn't keep._

_

* * *

_

The annoying beeping from a heart monitor awoke him, but he didn't move. They were strapping him down to the table, preparing for him to remain still so that he didn't hurt himself, or anyone else. His head hurt – when had he hit it? – pounding painfully until a liquid was poured onto it, causing the pain to sharpen.

Unwillingly, he stiffened, pushing against his restraints as he sucked in air sharply through his clenched teeth. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to block out the pain, but it only hurt more when someone wiped the liquid and blood from his head. The right side of his face felt stiff, hard to move because of the layer of dried blood on it.

"With a wound like this, someone would be dead already," one voice said, probably an EMT.

"I hope he'll be paralyzed on his left side," another voice said, the other EMT. "One less criminal to deal with. Maybe they'll be able to keep him in Arkham for _good_!"

"I'll have none of that," a familiar voice snapped. "He's criminally insane. The Joker will die when he has to, or if he escapes again, and the order happens to be to get him _either_ way."

The Joker opened his eyes slowly to adjust to the bright light he knew that would be waiting for him. He narrowed them as one of the EMT flashed a flashlight over his eyes, checking his response. "Dilating response is quite rapid for a normal person," the EMT remarked.

The other EMT probed the Joker's head wound gently. "No reaction to touch," he reported, "I don't know if he feels-." He cut himself off as the Joker's right hand twitched. The EMT looked confused. "Isn't it supposed to be his _left_?"

There was a shift as the EMT touched the Joker's left temple. The criminal mastermind gave no reaction.

"Breathing's normal," the other EMT reported. He pressed his gloved fingers against the Joker's throat for a few seconds. "Pulse is slightly faster than the norm." He went down the list. "Any more reactions?"

"His foot twitches every once in awhile," the familiar voice said. The Joker tried to place it and recognized it as the Commissioner's voice. "Can a hit to the head cause that?"

"Might be nerves," one EMT answered.

Someone entered the room, and the Joker saw a cream-colored folder being passed over his head. "This is all that Arkham has on his physical conditions."

"I wonder how he got out of that place," the other EMT mumbled.

The Joker blinked, feeling his eyes tear from the bright light. He looked away from it, shutting his eyes and then an involuntary groan escaped him.

"Hey, he's awake!"

"No need to, ah, to _yell_," the Joker mumbled, irritated.

"Joker." The Joker turned his head again, this time looking at the Commissioner with a hard look. The Commissioner didn't back down. "Don't cause any trouble."

The Joker scoffed and looked away, straining against his restraints as one of the EMTs started cleaning his head wound again.

He tried to remember what had happened, but no recent memory came to mind. He flinched under the painful sting from the EMT working on his head, but made no sound. Focusing again, he backtracked to when he had woken up beside Shadow. From there, as much as he wanted to linger, he pushed forward, gradually remembering various details of discovering that Peter and Hawkins were gone. Shadow had gone after them…and had never come back.

"Ya know, I kinda feel bad for the woman," one of the EMTs said.

The Joker had closed his eyes, trying to focus his thoughts. The EMTs must have thought he had fallen unconscious again, especially since he wasn't reacting farther to the stinging that had simply turned numb.

"Yeah, Hawkins called, and they found her handcuffed to an arcade game and a metal bat beside her. Someone had given her a good whack with it."

"I'm just surprised she's still alive."

"Barely, is what I heard."

The Joker's hand slowly curled, unnoticed by the EMTs.

"I doubt she'll survive the night, honestly. Her skull must've broken, caved in."

Red lights burst behind the Joker's closed eyes, and he felt his heartbeat quicken.

He forgot that they had linked him up with a heart monitor. The monitor's beeping sped up, matching the beat of his heart, instantly alerting the EMTs.

To keep himself from losing it, the Joker focused his energy in his hands, clenching and unclenching them, turning them into fists and tightening them until he started trembling.

"Whoa, this guy's-." The heart monitor's beeping continued to quicken until it was almost constant.

As fast as it had come, the Joker relaxed, slipping into semi-consciousness.

"-Had to have been some kind of spasm," one of the EMTs explained.

"Any idea what might have caused it?" Gordon's voice echoed.

"We thought he was unconscious, but we think he heard us talking about the, um, the woman he was with. Like he was having a panic attack over what we said about her condition."

There was an uncomfortable silence, and then, the Commissioner asked, "Is he conscious?"

The Joker opened his eyes and turned his head, looking directly at the Commissioner. His eyes _stung_, but he kept them on Gordon as the man pulled up a chair next to him. He licked his lips, finding them dry, before he said, "You don't…know what condition she's in?"

"Your…friend, as far as I know, is in intensive care," Gordon said.

"Where?"

"I can't tell you."

"I need to know!" the Joker shouted, suddenly before breaking off into a fit of coughing. It hurt as he turned his head away, spitting out bloody phlegm.

* * *

_More oxygen, more recharging, yet another shock._

_The beeping sound came back on the heart monitor, and even though it started out slow, it had started and would keep for the time being. The woman still lay on the table, motionless, but slightly, her chest was rising and falling, enough to give her oxygen on her own._

_Still, they watched over her, just to be sure that her heart didn't stop again. She had a twenty-four percent chance of living when they had found her in the arcade. When they had brought her to the emergency room, she had twelve._

_Now, as she laid motionless on the table, even when her heart had started beating again, though slowly, she still had a low chance of survival…_

…_four percent, to be exact._

_

* * *

_

He had waited until after the EMTs had cleaned his mysterious head wound – one that an EMT had said was almost identical to the woman's – and stitched it up. He had waited until they had taken his restraints off. He had waited until they had searched him and taken his knives and jacket from him, leaving him with nothing that would help him escape. He had waited until they had started to lead them to his holding cell for the night before he made his attempt.

The Joker threw himself at the Commissioner, but the EMTs pulled him off easily as he couldn't get a firm hold on the older man. He screamed as he was dragged to his holding cell, demanding that Gordon tell him where they were keeping Shadow. Even when a few cops came to help hold him off, he was angry and had a burst of adrenaline keeping him going.

They tossed him into the holding cell, and only then did he quiet down. He sat down on the metal bench, waiting for all the cops to leave the room before he leaned back, resting his head against the bars. A few of the lights shut off for the night. Minutes ticked by.

Then, three cops hurried into the room, struggling with a young man. The Joker watched with little interest as the cops shoved the young man into the holding cell across from him. "Now get in there and be _quiet_," one of the cops ordered.

"You're not the _boss_ of me!" the young man yelled, and the Joker recognized the voice. The young man huffed and sat down on his own metal bench, glaring at the cops until they had left the room.

"Ever been _caught_-ah by the cops before, Bleak?" the Joker asked.

The young man started and then stood up, moving toward the bars, clenching them with his hands. "Boss? Is that you?" he asked.

"It-ah _is_…"

"I _told_ you-."

"I don't _care_ what you told me, _Bleak_," the Joker snapped.

"You wanted yourself caught? _Again?_ You were supposed to escape and get Shadow!"

The Joker narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything.

Bleak calmed down and said, "Did you hear about her?"

He hung his head. "Yes," the Joker said, his voice quiet. "I don't think she'll survive…" He lifted his head and looked directly across to Bleak. "But in case she does, I know there's only two places they can put her once she's out of the hospital…"

"Blackgate Penitentiary or Arkham Asylum," Bleak said, knowingly. "It's guarantee that I'm going to Blackgate, and you to Arkham. Whenever she appears, one of us should try to contact her."

The Joker nodded and then slipped off the bench to lie down on the ground, placing his hands behind his head. In spite of his inner turmoil, a smirk stretched across his scarred mouth. "Arkham…it's going to be a _par_-ty when I return."

* * *

_She was breathing easier, at the normal speed for one who was unconscious. The doctors had cleaned her up, but she still wasn't in good shape. Stitches, bandages. Her right leg had popped out at the knee. Hands were cut badly, the left was a mess. Blood, cuts, bruises…the worst was her head; her head was bandaged heavily._

_The hit with the metal bat had done major damage. The skull was broken and bruised. Her brain was damaged, where the memory was kept. They believed that when she came to – _if_ she came to – she wouldn't remember anything that happened in the past few months. She'd be kept in intensive care for months, allowing her body to heal before they decided where she would go after that._

_

* * *

_

Dressed in Arkham's color of light blue with his hands cuffed to a thick belt around his waist and with a chain around his ankles, the Joker was led toward his room. The guard slid his ID card through the slot. The door clicked, and the guard pulled it open.

"Ah, my home sweet-ah _home_," the Joker exclaimed, widening his eyes with mock wonder.

"Yeah, yeah, get _in_ there," the guard said, giving the Joker a shove in the back.

The Joker allowed himself to be pushed into the room, and he half-turned back to the guard. "I'm sure I'll be seeing _you_ again," he said with a grin.

The guard flashed him a grin back and then scowled before slamming the door shut.

The Joker laughed as he bounded toward his cot, jumping onto it and then dropping. He seated himself and pulled his legs up like a little kid, looking about the room and inhaling sharply. He sighed, throwing his arms out wide, or as wide as he could with his hands still cuffed to the belt. "Oh how I _missed_ this place!"

* * *

_It was amazing! Incredible! _Unbelievable_!_

_Even with only four percent chance at survival, the woman pulled through. The doctors couldn't explain it better than with "It's a miracle!" Strangely enough, she seemed to be healing quite rapidly. Within a month, the only damage that showed was her head wound._

_She was conscious when her lawyer came in to talk with her about how he would defend her case. The confusion was evident in her eyes; the brain damage hadn't healed and probably wouldn't ever. Her lawyer said it was possible for her to avoid Blackgate because there had been a witness at the scene. Even though she asked politely, the lawyer wouldn't tell her who her witness was._

_The trial took place a week later. The woman appeared to be acting normal, with only a bad tremor to her hands that rested in her lap. She clenched and unclenched them, paying perfect attention to the District Attorney as he took the court how dangerous she was, how she knew what she was doing, and why she should be going to Blackgate._

_The woman asked her lawyer for a rubber band, and her lawyer looked at her questioningly. "It's just something to play with," she replied. She lifted her trembling hands and explained, "I feel better when I have something to do with my hands. I promise not to shot someone with it."_

_Her lawyer consented and handed her a rubber band, which she immediately started weaving her fingers in. The shaking seemed to vanish completely as she busied her hands, her attention still focused on the D.A._

_It took two hours. Her lawyer got up and told the jury of her story, given by an eyewitness. The woman looked down as the witness was called; she didn't want to see him. Her lawyer also provided information about her having some kind of special power, like the other criminals who weren't insane. He rambled off two names: Poison Ivy and Mr. Freeze._

_He only spoke for thirty minutes, after the D.A. had spoken for an hour. The last thirty minutes was left to the jury to decide her fate, in which they came back and said, all though she was clearly sane, because of her special ability, she would go to Arkham Asylum._

_

* * *

_

There was a knock on the door, and the Joker giggled softly. "Come _in_," he said in a sing-song voice.

Two guards waited just outside the door. "C'mon, clown, time for you to meet your doctor."

"I'm _excited_," the Joker said, rolling his eyes. He walked out and held out his wrists, allowing one of the guards to handcuff him. They led him down the hallways of Arkham.

The Joker and his guards passed another patient with a guard. The Joker did a double-take as he realized that the patient had what looked like a black bag over their head. His eyes wandered the body shape, and a grin appeared on his face.

"So you _are_ here," he murmured.

"What was that?" one of his guards asked.

"Oh, nothing, just talking to, ah, to myself."

The guards brought him into the interview room. He sat down at the table, and the guards removed his handcuffs, putting his wrists in restraints connected to the metal table that was bolted to the floor. The Joker watched them pull it tight, and he licked his lips as the door opened to reveal his doctor.

"Oh, Doctor Quinzel!" the Joker exclaimed, happily. "Aren't I glad to see you?"

She smiled as she seated herself across from him. "Are you?" she asked, and he winked. "How are you feeling today, Mr. J?" Harleen asked.

The Joker grinned widely. "I'm feelin' _great_-ah. What about you, Doc?"

"I'm well. Back to you. Why is it that you're feeling good?"

"I said 'great', not-ah '_good_'."

"My mistake. What makes you feel great this morning? A change in the routine? A sudden thought?"

The Joker looked off to the side. "I just-ah _confirmed_ something that's been on my mind since I came _back_ here." He narrowed his eyes, knowing that behind the walls, other doctors were watching him. He could just imagine them shifting their feet uneasily.

"What's that?"

He shrugged as he leaned back. "If you want me to tell you, you'll have to try _harder_."

She smiled as she leaned forward, clasping her hands and placing them on the table. The Joker licked his lips quickly, turning his head to give her a sidelook. It didn't matter to him. He wasn't going to tell her, not _everything_ at least.

He was happy for one reason, not for her, but for the one he thought he had lost, _permanently_. It made him content that Shadow had been sent to Arkham Asylum, with _him_, rather than to Blackgate.

Oh, boy, did it make him _happy_!

* * *

**Lordlink13: So, that's the end of "Joker's Shadow". Who liked it? Who hated it? I wouldn't know, that's your job to decide. And obviously, I left the story had an evil cliffhanger. Will I continue the story in a sequel? Maybe, maybe not. It seems to me to be a good place to end it all, to leave the Joker and Shadow in Arkham Asylum rather than…what? You don't like that idea. Who said **_**you**_** were in charge? I'm the writer, not you…but isn't it part of the writer's duty to make the readers happy? Boy, don't I fail at that? Fine, if you **_**beg**_** me, I'll write a sequel, but **_**only**_** if you get down on your knees and bark like a **_**dog**_**!**

**Don't know when, but look for "Shadow's City". *hint hint***


End file.
